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pennylanefics · 3 years

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Broken Trust - Theo Raeken

a/n: i’ve had this in my wip’s for a little and never had the inspiration to finish it until recently :) if anyone has more ideas for theo, i’d love them!!

•••

“I don’t care about how long we’ve known each other and how long we’ve been together! You killed Scott!”

“I had to!”

“No you didn’t!”

“Listen, I’m not gonna argue with a human about supernatural business that you have no idea about.”

Things with Theo had fallen out. He just attempted to kill Scott and admitted to using you to get close to the pack. Obviously, you were upset and immediately broke things off.

“I don’t know about the supernatural? My best friend is a werewolf and has been one for years! He told me from the beginning and included me in everything! So yeah, this human knows enough about it.”

“Then you wouldn’t be wondering why I did what I did. Shit happens. Sometimes you have to do things for your own pack.”

“Exactly. You have a pack! So why do you have to come in and ruin ours?!” Theo laughs evilly and pushes you aside to grab his bag.

“Like I said, you wouldn’t understand from a supernatural point of view. I’m not dealing with this anymore.”

“Good, because I never wanna see you again!” Theo stops in his tracks. Sure, you had been fighting for the past hour or so, and it was clear things were over between the two of you, but you saying it outright that things were completely finished got to him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You betrayed my trust, the trust of my best friends, killed one of them, sent another to Eichen, and continue to put me down simply because I’m human. Why’s it so shocking that I want nothing to do with you anymore?!” Theo stares at you, tears in his eyes, the first time you’ve seen him cry. Well, genuinely cry.

“I-I guess that’s fair.” He says nothing as he packs his things and walks out of your room. Before he closes the door, he takes one last look at you.

“You know, I never lied to you about us. I really do love you, I’ve loved you ever since the summer before senior year. I know it’s hard to trust me after everything I’ve done, but trust me on this. My feelings for you were real.”

With that, he shuts the door and leaves your home, not to return again.

You didn’t see the pack much after the break up. You knew he was still around and trying to get into the pack. But Scott understood and kept you up to date on things anyways. That’s how you found out Theo was gone for good when he was dragged into the ground by his sister.

After that, you started helping the pack again, and they were happy to have you back. You and Kira grew closer as friends as she was there for you as a shoulder to cry on and go to for comfort. She knows what you are going through and was more than happy to talk you through things. She was there for you when Liam resurrected Theo, and when you tried attacking the young wolf for doing so.

Since his pack from before was gone, as were the Dread Doctors, he didn’t have one, so, Scott being Scott, allowed him to redeem himself and gain trust back. But this meant you were out of the pack again; you still wanted nothing to do with him.

You heard from Kira, Scott, and Liam that he’s been asking about you ever since he got back. The one thing you made sure was that they didn’t say a word about you to him. They were okay to just say that you’re doing fine, but nothing else.

Now, it’s been a couple months and the situation within Beacon Hills had yet to be solved. Unbeknownst to you, Theo had been sleeping in his car due to not having anywhere else to stay. You were usually his home away from home, a place he could go when he had nowhere else, but that wasn’t the case.

After being told to move his car for the seventh time, he decides on one last place: your house. It’s late at night, close to midnight, as he pulls into your driveway. Both of your parents’ car and your car were gone, so he figured he was safe.

Around 12:30 in the morning, Kira pulls up in front of your house to drop you off.

“Thanks for picking me up,” you say, gathering your things. “Didn’t expect my car to break down in the middle of the night.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t want you to be stranded out in the middle of the woods with everything going on.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks again.” You exit the car and before you make it up the steps to your door, Theo’s truck catches your attention. You recognize it right away, having spent lots of nights cuddling in it to get away from both of your parents. Your favorite time spent together was when you would go to the lookout in the woods and just cuddle in the back, especially during the rain.

You slowly approach it and turn on the flashlight on your phone. You see that he’s asleep in the back, curled up in a blanket, looking very uncomfortable. You softly knock on the window, hoping to catch his attention.

It doesn’t work, so you knock harder, and this gets him.

“Oh come on! I’m in a driveway!” He sits up, ready to move, but when he sees that it’s you, his expression drops. You raise your eyebrows at him and he opens the door for you, letting you in.

It’s awkward for a moment before he starts talking.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” he says, keeping his eyes forward. “I’ve dealt with so many police officers and state troopers kicking me off of properties. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.”

“Why are you sleeping in your car anyways?” He chuckles and tugs his blanket further into his lap.

“I’m homeless. I have nowhere to go. Scott doesn’t trust me still, neither does anyone else, besides Liam, though he’s still weary of me. And it won’t be easy explaining to his mom why some random guy from school that’s been gone for months has to stay with them.”

“What happened to your parents?”

“They, uh, moved away after I was dragged underground.”

“I don’t blame them,” you mumble under your breath. He hears this, obviously.

“Just let me stay in your driveway for the night and I’ll be gone and out of your hair.”

You finally look up at him and notice he looks a little different. He’s matured, his features changing slightly to make him look grown and older. His hair was longer, and all you could think of was running your fingers through it while he lays next to you.

“How about I let you stay in the guest room for the next couple nights, if you want?” You offer. He raises his eyebrows at you in shock, not expecting you to be so kind and understanding after not seeing him for so long.

“You don’t have to do that, (Y/N), I-”

“As much as I hate you, I hate the fact that you’re sleeping in your car with nowhere to go. We don’t have to speak to one another, we don’t have to see each other, just come inside for the night and you can be on your way.”

He remains silent for a moment, trying to find a way out of it, but it did sound nice. A warm, comfortable bed, with an actual comforter was so inviting, so he finally gave in.

“Thank you,” he whispers, gathering his things and stepping out. You hop out and run to the door to unlock it, so he can walk in when he’s ready. A few moments pass before he appears at the bottom of the porch with his bag of clothes and his cover.

“You know we have plenty of covers, right?” You say, closing the door behind him.

“I know, but it’s kind of like a sense of security at the moment. I don’t have much, but I do have these.” You smile and lead him to the guest room, right across the hall from your room.

“Let me know if you need extra pillows or any food or drinks.”

“Could I have a glass of water? I’m not hungry at the moment, I just wanna sleep.”

“Yeah, settle in and I’ll be right back.”

You couldn’t believe Theo was back in your home, and you were talking to him. Since he left, he’s the only thing you thought about, but part of you meant what you said: you never wanted to see him again. But the other part longed for him, the intimacy you shared, the love you felt for him, or thought you did.

After filling the glass, you pause for a moment to collect your thoughts and come to terms with what was happening. Finally, you, grab the glass and head back upstairs.

“Here you go,” you hand him the glass. By now, he had gotten comfortable under the covers and was already half asleep. But he sits up and takes the glass from you, chugging most of it right away.

“If you need anything else, I’m right across the hall.” With that, you awkwardly walk out of the room and get ready for bed in your own.

—

The next morning, you wake up and walk to the kitchen to make some breakfast. But, last night comes back to your mind and you remember that Theo is sleeping in your guest room.

You head upstairs to see if he would want some breakfast as well, but when you knock on the door and you receive no answer, you step inside. He is still fast asleep, you assume because he hasn’t slept properly in weeks.

You leave him be and make food for yourself. The rest of the afternoon, you got some chores around the house done, read a couple chapters of the book you were reading, and finished a movie.

Theo walked downstairs around 1:30, rubbing his eyes from sleep. You could tell he just woke up.

“Morning,” he mumbles. You chuckle and walk into the kitchen with him.

“It’s way past morning. You slept for thirteen hours,” you tell him. He shrugs and takes a seat at the table. “Do you want some lunch?” He looks at you hesitantly, wondering why you were being so nice to him.

“I can get going, I don’t want to be a bother,” he says, standing to head back upstairs.

“Theo, you don’t have to go. I know we didn’t end on good terms, but I can tell you’re tired and sleeping in your truck isn’t comfortable in the long run.”

“But you loved spending nights with me in it, running away from our parents,” he laughs, sitting back down. You laugh with him and for a moment, you forget about all the horrible things he did.

Being around him again reminded you of how much you truly loved him, pack business and everything supernatural aside.

“The pack misses you, you know,” he says, breaking the silence. You lean against the counter and sigh softly.

“I still keep in contact with them, just not with pack stuff.” He nods and stares at his hands awkwardly.

“I miss you, too,” he whispers.

“Yeah, Kira and Liam told me that you were asking about me when you returned.”

“Because you’re the only person I wanted to see. I didn’t care about making things right with Scott in that moment or even helping them with what they needed me for. I wanted to see you and fix things.”

“What’s there to fix, Theo? You broke my trust, you lied to me, you-“

“I may have lied to you about my intentions with the pack, but I never lied to you about my feelings,” he suddenly stands, facing you. His voice held so much heartbreak and passion, and you could feel his sadness.

“How do I know that?” He steps forward and takes your hand, placing it on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat.

“I know trusting me may not be possible, but I need you to know that whenever I told you I loved you, I meant it.” His heartbeat remained steady, and the tears in his eyes proved his point. Or was he just really good at lying and guilt tripping.

“I still don’t know, Theo,” you murmur, your own eyes filling with tears. He steps back and more tears fall down his cheeks.

“Okay,” he whispers sadly. He walks out of the kitchen, ready to go back to living in his truck.

His words replay in your head, along with all the memories you two made together. Thinking over things, you realize that he never brought up supernatural and pack business around you. He never told you his plan to betray Scott until you learned about it from Stiles.

He always made sure that your time together was YOUR time. It was a real relationship, Theo never asked you about Scott or Stiles or Liam, he never was willing to talk about the pack or supernatural business, mainly because he didn’t want you involved with whatever he was doing. He didn’t want you to get hurt and he also didn’t want you to think he was trying to use you to get closer to the pack.

After a couple minutes of thinking back to moments in your relationship, you decided that his heart was in the right place, and you ran off to make things right.

Running into the living room, you find Theo getting ready to walk out the door, but you appearing in the room stops his action.

“Fuck it,” you whisper, running straight towards him and crashing your lips to his. He stumbles back, shocked at your sudden action, but kisses back just as passionately as you.

“Please don’t leave,” you mumble against his lips.

“But you said before that you couldn’t trust me,” he breathes, pulling away.

“I know. But after thinking over all the times we spent together, I see that you really do love me for me, and not to get closer to Scott and everyone else.” He nods and caresses your cheek with his thumb.

“Using you was never my intention. I really did fall for you. I fell for you before I even knew you were friends with them. Then after I found out, I felt horrible and tried to keep them out of our relationship as much as I could.”

“I know,” you giggle, kissing him again. “I now see that, Theo. So, please stay with me? I really missed you.”

Theo smiles fondly and you lean into his touch.

“I missed you too, baby. Of course I’ll stay.”

#theo raeken #theo raeken imagines #theo raeken imagine #theo raeken x reader #cody christian #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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weonbullshit · 2 years

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Please forgive me for bad writing but I had to share this possible start for my Griffin!Cody idea!

Cody had been upset since the incident.

He had watched how all of his hero attempts have failed, he had watched how his actions affected others, but for him the worst, the worst is that his family had to suffer because of him.

This day was just another reminder that no matter what, it is better to be left in the shadows, and let others have the spotlight like Frankie! She has a better shot, she was smatter, stronger, and braver than him, she also has a better connection with tech, something very important that he lacks...

He thinks that is just luck that he hasn't hurt himself so badly, just like he hasn't horrible hurt everyone else because of his stupid decisions.

And after having such a nightmare last night.

He was in the bathroom, now staring at the claws that once were his hands, similar to the talons of an eagle, yellow and sharp. Cody wished that he was still sleeping, that this is still a bad nightmare!

"Son, breakfast is ready, do you want to get down?" the soft knock and the voice of his father made him jump, but he keep his eyes on the claws trying to think faster, trying to recall if he did something to deserve this.

"I-I am not hungry a-at the moment!" Cody finally answered, with fear in his voice that he tried to hide with the quick response, he didn't want to get everyone worried over other of his errors.

"It's okay, I can still take you to school, right? " his dad's words brought him to dread at the mere thought of being seen even if it was just his dad.

"N-No! I can go by myself!" He says. Fear in his words was all his dad could hear.

"Cody, I know you are upset"

"P-please go away!" Cody didn't mean to sound so harsh, it broke his heart to hear his dad suck in a breath as if he had been hit, the sound of him stepping back as he recoiled at his words.

Cody didn't want to hurt anyone and an apology was already going to be released, when-

"I and the team will be working late, but I will let you some snacks on the fridge. So when you feel better, we can have a movie night together, ok?"

It was silent, no answer nor response, just quietness followed by a weak "uhum" from Cody...

His dad left at the response.

When he couldn't hear anyone else in the house he busted crying, the sight of the claws not helping the matter, he made a grab for his blanket taking a frog doll that his older brother had to buy him to scare off nightmares.

But at the moment he tried to put his sorrows in the doll, it ripped as he got hold of it, Cody panicked as the same fate fell upon his bed and pillow.

He rushed by throwing all to the window of the back, keeping his hands far away from himself as if they were a horrible monster wanting to eat him.

He closed his eyes, telling over and over again the word "Is just a dream, I'll wake up". Taking a deep breath, each one calmer than the last one, finally reaching a peaceful mindset. He felt as if a heavy rock was removed from his shoulder.

At that sensation, he opened his eyes and saw.

The claws were gone!

What do you think!? Is just a quick idea so I may change it later

It's a pretty compelling start, I like it so far! So is it like a transformation type of thing that he could learn to control?

#tfrb #tfrbau #fanfic #rescue bots #transformers rescue bots #cody burns #rescue bots au

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pjm-com · 3 years

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unbound | m.

- a/n : a big thank you to @ksj-com for helping with the plot hehe

- pairing: kim taehyung x reader - genre: smut, forbidden love! au, slight angst - warnings: sex, cursing, fighting, boys being boys - word count: 11.4K - summary: years after being under the sharp eye of your brother, taehyung finally returns your feelings. of course, jungkook is wanting to protect you from another vicious heartbreak after yoongi, but taehyung will find a way to see you. with or without jungkook's permission.

“Fuck this date.”

You slammed the door shut, tears rolling down your face. You’re glad your parents went away on some kayaking trip, cause the entire house shook. You hang up your purse, not even stopping to look at the outfit you had just wasted. A simple spaghetti strap dress. You had curled your hair for once too, considering it was usually in a bun, or you just left it alone. Not to mention, you had to borrow makeup from a friend considering you rarely wore any.

To put it simply, this was a waste of your fucking time.

You stomped up the stairs towards your brother's room, knowing you’d be able to confide in him. It’s something he’s been doing heartbreak after heartbreak and it gets a little easier every time. His best friend Taehyung would always weigh in too when he could, and they always knew what to say. You’re afraid that this time, they’re gonna want to do more than give advice. If they didn’t kill him first, you’d be able to milk an apology out of the date.

Slamming the door, you sniffle loudly. “Sorry.. can I come to hang out?” Your voice sounded clogged from the drive home. Not one, but two pairs of eyes land on you. Jungkook nods in an instant, patting the open space on the bed. Taehyung’s eyes are glued on you out of pure shock, following you closely as you fall face-first into the bed. The warm palm of your brother's hand on the low of your back. For some reason, it makes you cry even harder.

God, you were pathetic. You haven’t cried over a boy in so long, but this one hurt a little more. You guess you figured that he had liked you, so maybe that’s why it was a little sore right now.

“What's wrong?” Jungkook’s soft voice rings through the room as their game goes on pause. He continues to rub your back in huge circles to calm your breathing while you find a stopping point to the sobbing. You pick up your head, wiping your eyes the best you could, laughing angrily.

“Sorry about your comforter…” Jungkook waves it off. “It's just— I get all dressed up in t-this, which we all know I don’t dress to impress. Then, Mr. Min fucking Yoongi shows up, fifteen minutes late might I add. He barely even looked at me all night.” The boys share a look that is quick, eyes wide.

“Kook, Don’t Namjoon and Hoseok know him?” Taehyung sounded surprised, while your brother nodded.

“Namjoon was who introduced them I think.”

You nod to both of them, playing with a loose string of Jungkook’s blanket. “Yeah, that and we have study hall together.. not that it matters anymore…” You trail off, upset. You were having a good time with him too, even if it was for a few class periods every week. You hated feeling this way, showing weakness in front of your brother and his friend. You couldn’t help it. Guys were assholes.

Shifting into a sitting position, you lean against your brother's shoulder. “Then, he was like ‘so when are we going to fuck’, and lewd stuff like that.. Like— like how do you just say something like that? I feel like an idiot,” You whined, tears falling freely again. You sniffled again as Jungkook brings you in for a hug.

Your brother groaned. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “I went in there thinking he was interested in me. Not my body. It seemed like he only cared about sex. He even told me he had second thoughts coming, but… I can only assume he came in case he was gonna get laid.” Your voice dropped off as you let it out, crying into your hands. Boys were cruel and that was more than evident. Jeon Jungkook was horrible at many things. He couldn’t cook, he once swallowed a puzzle piece and got put on house arrest once. That being said, he’s still your brother and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. He’s an idiot. You have so many other options, he doesn’t even deserve your time.”

Taehyung seconds Jungkook’s words. “For real. You’re funny, you are talented at a lot of things… and I guess you aren’t that ugly.”

You snort softly as you look up from Jungkook’s arms, wiping your eyes while you three laugh. It’s the oldest cliche in the book, but hearing that from Taehyung makes your heart flutter. You continued to look at Taehyung for a bit, cheeks red as you looked at your own feet. You don’t know when you even started having a crush on the older male, but you hate it. As much as it pains you to say that. Jungkook made it crystal clear that he was off-limits, while Taehyung had made no effort to try and make a move. You left it dormant.

You smile. “Thanks, Tae.” You sigh, wiping your eyes for hopefully the last time. “Sorry for crashing, well— whatever this was.”

Jungkook shakes his head, tone firm. “We weren’t doing much of anything. Did you want to join us?”

You look over to his counterpart, the look on Taehyung’s face inviting as you decided. If you had another second alone with yourself, then you might as well just cry for the rest of the night. Nodding, you excuse yourself to change into some regular clothes and take a moment to wipe off your makeup. Your phone lights up, reading Min Yoongi. The infamous senior who everyone wanted to be with, despite being a nonchalant asshole.

He seemed genuine at first, he did. You wonder why you put yourself in these situations, but you can’t find an answer. At least not one you want to admit. Stepping back into your bother’s room with fresh sweatpants and a tight hoodie, you move towards the boys. Sitting on the bed, you pull Jungkook’s fuzzy blanket over your body and relax into the headboard.

The exhaustion stops you almost immediately, eyes closed as you slump against the pillow. Your mind washes away all the worries of a couple of hours before.

You dreamt about your future. Working a dull nine to five, a decent car, a nice house in a quiet neighborhood. Wasn’t ideal, but your husband in the dream was making everything with it. That being said, you couldn’t make out his face, the blonde blurry to your eyes. You enjoyed his company, or at least you did according to the last strings of your dreams.

You make quick work of getting ready, pulling on jeans and a hoodie considering the temperature had dropped today. Once ready, you brush your teeth and floss quickly before you grab your bag and make your way downstairs. You cursed to yourself as you barely had touched your homework. A nerve-eating parasite pinched the very core of your stomach, dragging yourself down into the kitchen with dread. Yoongi was the last person you had wanted to see. Unfortunately, you’d have to suck it up and face your day head-on.

You’re surprised to see Jungkook by himself at the island, choking on a bowl of Frosted Flakes as he dumped the plastic bowl into the sink, looking at you.

“Where’s thing two?” Not that you cared. Okay, you did, but you were curious. They went everywhere together and Taehyung was the last to wake up when he slept at your house. Your brunette brother shrugged, slipping into his vans and almost face planting as he did. He grabbed his keys, moving out the door with urgency. You deadpanned. “Stay up late?”

Jungkook snorted. “Yeah, till almost four. S’ crazy right? Trying to wake up Taehyung is like trying to wake up a cemetery. When I got up, he was gone. Maybe he went to school early?” You both shared a look before bursting into laughter.

“Yeah right,” you laugh as you lock your front door, trailing behind Jungkook to the car. “That knucklehead would never go to school early.. maybe had to shower or something.” You get into your brother's car, deciding you leave yours home for the day. You were coming straight home after school and nowhere else, and taking two vehicles to school was a little extra.

The ride to school was the same, Kook talking about whatever girl he was banging while you just watched the houses move by. You dreaded getting to school, but on the bright side, you wouldn’t have any distractions. You could get all your homework done for the weekend. You doubted Yoongi would even be there, considering all he did was sit in the bathroom and smoke weed.

You guess you kind of liked that, though. You lived a bit of a cookie-cutter life, and never had a taste of danger. Till you met Yoongi.

Finally, you were parked in the school lot. As soon as you stepped out of the car, Taehyung was jogging to you both. His brown eyes crazy and you couldn’t help but notice his knuckles were a bit red. Couldn’t blame him, considering it was the cold dry season.

The blonde fell into step with you and your brother, joining in on the regular morning banter. How Jungkook was a whore, and Taehyung was practically locked in a chatty belt. You thought it was sweet though. Taehyung didn’t have many girlfriends, and you thought it was refreshing how he took everything at his own pace.

“You guys are idiots,” you call, watching the twins wrestle as you open your locker. You shove some books in, only to take out the necessary ones as you wave goodbye to dumb and dumber. Taehyung smiles at you while he waves, and your return the action right back. The prettiest smile you had ever seen. It sounds gross to be gushing over someone who had grown up with you, but the childhood feelings were long gone. They grew up with you, less innocent than they were before. Not that you’d ever say anything.

Taking a seat, you set your books down on your usual table, the commons more crowded than usual. The bell rings and some kids scatter, but it was still heavy traffic in the heart of the school. Your stomach does flips into your fucking ass, almost dropping your headphones as half of the cafeteria watches with you.

Yoongi makes his way across the room, soft eye turned black. Chapped lip now split. It looked fresh too. Not a yesterday kind of bruise, it was more of a thirty-minute wound. He barely gave you time to process how close he was, but the tone was pitiful. Forced. Like someone was holding a gun to his head.

“I’m sorry.” It was dry and airy, but it was.. an apology? “I’m sorry for acting like an asshole. I'm not sure what got into me that night, but I shouldn’t have treated you like that. 's not right.” With that, without even waiting for an answer, he was gone. Anger filled your head to toe. You’re not even sure how it was possible. Who the hell had even beat him up? And was it related to your situation? You finish your homework, but with a clouded mind. So many questions and no answers. You figure it must’ve been Jungkook. Maybe that’s why he was so tired this morning.

You were gonna let him have it.

The rest of the day followed fast and suit as a Friday would. It had blurred by, probably due to the anger. You heated up even more as the car was unlocked, pushing your bag into the seat while Jungkook stared at you weirdly.

“The hell was that today?” The confusion is almost comical, eyebrows knitted as he starts the car. “Don’t act brand new. Yoongi came up to me this morning with his face practically smashed. He apologized to me.” Jugnkook laughed it off, turning on the car and backing out of the parking spot.

“Y/N, you give me too much credit. Mom would beat my ass if I beat someone else’s. Though, I do envy whoever did. Any other leads?” You shake your head as you sink back into the seat. This day felt too long. “I mean, we told Joon about it, but he’s cool Y/N you know him. Doubt he’d do anything so drastic.” You were at a dead end. The drive home was silent. You had no more energy for talking or doing anything else. It seemed so crazy.

You know what though? At least he apologized. Whether he meant it or not, he had to drag his sorry ass through the commons after getting it handed to him, and he had to apologize. You could take a decent nap on that note alone. Although, it still burns in the back of your skull that someone had done it for you. Or at least you thought.

You’re still unsure if the two were related.

“You want a sandwich?” Jungkook offers it up as you both enter the house, dropping your bag as you nod. You honestly forgot to eat today, hunger pangs banging on the wall of your gut. You sit at the island, opening a Gatorade as you watch Jungkook pull out the sub bread and the other fixings to the “world-famous” sub he made. Honestly, it was pretty damn good, and you could eat a whole one right about now.

“So.. you feeling better?” You sigh at the question, chin rested on your hand as you shrug.

You weren’t too sure. “I guess. I'm glad he apologized, but it still racks my mind. Why was he all banged up?” Jungkook halts a bit, before shrugging normally. Jungkook wanted to let the situation blow over, so he decided not to say anything. “Wasn’t you, wasn’t Namjoon, and it wasn’t Taehyung? So… I don't know. Who cares. Enough bout that asshole... What are your plans for tonight?”

Jungkook was glad you had dropped the topic. “The usual. I think the boys are gonna come over tonight if that’s okay with you? I don’t know if you wanted a quiet night or something, but. Jimin wants to play Mario Kart, and Hoseok is going to raid our fridge... You know the usual,” he laughed. But nothing more was said. You happily ate the sandwich, watching the brunette crack out his chemistry book to finish his homework before the boys came over.

You retreated to the bedroom, changing into some sweatpants and one of Jungkook’s old ratty hoodies. The moment your head hit your pillow, you were out like a light.

Honestly, when you woke up, you felt a thousand times better. Your body felt relaxed, you had finger marks on your cheeks. It was probably the best damn nap you’ve had in a while. You rub your eyes, not surprised to see a couple of snap chats from your friends considering you had been asleep for a couple of hours now. You’re almost tempted to go back to sleep before you hear faint yelling from downstairs.

You didn’t mind going to spend a little time with them, laughing as you see Jimin tackle Jin over the coffee table as the raven took first place again. Jimin was no match for the taller male, however, Jin pushing the brunette over the table and straight on his ass, laughing.

“Hey,” you said softly, grabbing a water bottle from the hallway stash, sitting on the edge of the counter.

“Y/N did you see that, Jin’s a cheater!” Jimin wailed throughout the house, making everyone roll their eyes.

Jin’s face only read malice. “Just like your last girlfriend.” The boys all winced at the comeback, laughing a little once they saw Jimin wasn’t phased. “Too soon?” The two start wrestling again, making you laugh. You move past the four-year-olds on the floor, pulling out a small bag of pretzels from the pantry. You open them, turning on your heel before you almost bump into Namjoon. He was a bit of a refresher. He was kind through and through, and always put everyone before himself. Even when your mother forced your brother to let you come with when you were younger, Namjoon always made sure you were included and cared for.

“Woah! Sorry,” you laugh, ready to move past but Namjoon blocks you.

You can read on his face that he’s a little guilty, but you’re not too sure what for. His mouth opens like he’s finding the words, before his lips purse again.

You laugh. “Namjoon, stop sweating. It’s okay, I’m okay.” Namjoon doesn’t buy it. He pulls you into a hug, lips pressed to the top of your head. He was really like an older brother to you, right under Jungkook.

“It’s not... I just. I don’t know. I feel— you never would’ve met him if it wasn’t for me. And I just—“ He cuts himself off. “No one should ever be told those things…” He sure sounded guilty. You did, however, accept the hug.

“Hey, seriously... It sucks, but it’s not your fault. I would never blame you for something like that. Seriously I mean it.” You smile up at the raven, and he finally smiles back. He’s relieved, but you had another thing to get off your chest. “Hey, speaking of him… did you happen to see who beat him up? When he apologized, he looked… busted,” You laugh, Namjoon follows suit.

Unfortunately, Joon shakes his head. “Nope.. figured Jungkook did that, but no. I wish I had an answer,” he shrugged, a frown on his features before Jungkook is calling you both over. You suppressed the curiosity, for now, wondering if you’d ever get an answer. You roll your eyes as your brother referred to you as stinky, laughing as you snatch the controller from Hoseok who was losing anyways.

“Let me show you guys how a real match is played.”

All the boys got their remotes ready. Honestly, you had fun playing the few rounds you did. You kept winning first place against Jimin who was definitely in the lead. You hand the controller, relaxing back into the huge couch. You’re surprised it's taken you this long to realize that Taehyung wasn’t even here. He was always over, so you wondered why he was missing right now. You pull out your phone, checking his location at his own house.

You decide to text him, phone screen tilted to Jungkook couldn’t see.

hey, loser. why aren’t you kicking everyone's ass on the wii?

You watch the text bubble start typing on the screen, and for a few good minutes, it’s going. You’re ready to see a keyboard smash or something considering it was taking a while for the text to send. Just like that, it’s gone. The hell? It wasn’t like Taehyung to not respond, or to take long at all. Something felt off, but you knew Jungkook’s rules. He would be curious as to why you were going over to his house.

“Hey kook, I’m gonna.. get some ice cream. You want any on the way back?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nah, we’re gonna go get food after this round. Check-in with me at eleven!” You rolled your eyes, slipping on your slippers as you said goodbye to the boys. Unlocking your car, you got in and pulled out of the driveway as soon as it was warmed up enough. It wasn’t a far drive to Taehyung’s house, only a couple of streets over from yours. You knew the route by heart, all the countless nights of you and your brother sneaking out of your house. You high-tailed it to the blue suburban at the end of the cul de sac, only to be dragged home by your mother.

When you finally arrive at the house, you park on the street noticing the house was pitch black. Save for the basement window, which was Taehyung’s window. You kill the engine, shutting the door quietly as you trek up to the front of the house. Tipping the potted fern out front, you grab the hidden spare key, unlocking the front door gently. You close it behind you, taking off your shoes as you sneak down to the basement, not wanting to wake his parents.

You tap the ‘man cave’ sign that the idiots painted for good luck; a tradition you all had. It doesn’t take long to spot Taehyung slouched against the headboard, hand in a chip bowl as you hear the opening credits of SpongeBob. Oh lord.

“Hey stranger,” you call softly, watching him mope around as he paused the show, sitting up.

His face showed that he seemed a little annoyed. “What do you want?” You’re thrown off by the tone, but you can tell he’s upset. Or that he’s in a mood, even though he quickly backtracked. “I’m sorry... I’m just. I got a lot on my mind.” Your eyebrows knit, looking at the expression. Whatever it was, it was kicking his ass.

“It’s okay,” You sigh, voice soft as you move to sit on the end of the bed. Taehyung is jumbling around words in his mouth, shrugging. He wants to avoid it, you can tell. He didn’t want to say whatever was obviously on the tip of his tongue, but it was going to eat him up one way or another. “Hey, the boys aren’t here.. Say what you need t—“

“I’m sorry, okay?” Your eyebrow raised at his words, but you didn’t even have to ask. “I’m sorry about Yoongi.”

You rolled your eyes. “God— what is it with you guys? You and Namjoon both. You don’t need to be sorry, he apologized. It sucks, but it’s over with.” You were starting to get a little irritated at how everyone was walking on eggshells around you. This wouldn’t be the first time your heart broke, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Taehyung groans like he’s at war with himself, leaning back into his bed.

“I was the one who beat him up… to get him to apologize.”

The silence that follows is deafening, your eyes wide at the words. Finally, you’re relieved that the whole ordeal is solved. But—

“Why?” You were grateful, truthfully. “What if you get in trouble?” Taehyung had a perfect record, and it wouldn’t sit right with you if he ruined it because of Yoongi. You weren’t going to lie, it did make your heart flutter a bit.

Taehyung sat up, eyes not meeting yours. “Cause, Y/N. I did it cause it's not fair. Yoongi shouldn’t get to walk around with a chip on his shoulder after saying what he did to you.” The blonde sighs, eyes finally looking up. “I pummeled him hard enough, I doubt he’d rat me out. I'm tired of seeing boy after boy come through and break your heart. It’s not fair to you.” Your cheeks burn at the words, sitting silently as you cross your arms. You couldn’t be mad at that, not when he was crusading for you.

“I'm surprised Jungkook didn’t rat me out. He knew… and he knows I like you.”

Now you’re super confused.

“Jungkook knew? That little shit,” you grumble. “I asked him. All-day I was trying to find out what the hell happened to Yoongi. But he knows you like me?” Taehyung nods, defeated as he holds one of his pillows against his chest. You have hit another dead end for maybe the fourth time today. It was unspoken between you two, but you already knew the deal. You can’t go after him. Even if you want to open that damn basement window and scream to the streets that he had finally liked you back.

“It doesn’t even matter,” he whined, eyes looking down at the floor now. “He doesn’t want to be in the middle or pick sides if we were to break up.” You nod, knowing that was Jungkook’s whole problem. It would be impossible for him to pick between his lifelong best friend and his sister. He couldn’t, and he doesn’t want to.

Taehyung on the other hand feels like a fucking idiot. Exposing his feelings, and to him, it seems like you’re dodging it head-on. Relief floods him.

“I like you, god I do,” You mumble, thumb brushing over the scar on the side of his face. “I don’t want to come between you and jungkook.” Taehyung shakes his head, holding your face in his hands.

“I don’t care anymore. I don’t,” he whined, moving closer. It felt like literal years before his lips touched yours and when they do, it knocks the wind out of you. His hand on yours as he practically smashes your lips together and god does it feel good. It feels so fucking good to kiss him. Like you’re finally breathing fresh air. You return the force of the kiss, hand on his shoulder as they mold together. His lips, they’re soft save for the tiny spot that's chapped. He had on cherry-flavored chapstick, making you smile a bit. It tasted weird.

“I don’t care.” Taehyung breathed against your lips. His hand held your face, thumb moving over your bottom lip. It gave your stomach butterflies, to say the least, while he kissed you again. Too slow for your liking, laughing as you bumped noses. You fell back into the bed, the blond following suit. If he didn’t care, then neither did you.

His hands stayed holding your head, jaw tilted in place as you made out slowly. Strings of soft, loving kisses that had years behind them. Decades.

“I guess it doesn’t hurt to keep things under wraps,” you mumbled, feeling his lips wander to your neck. An innocent kiss turned deviant.

You’ve never received a proper hickey before, and god was it making your head spin. The difference between a harsh bite on your neck was massive compared to what Taehyung was doing. His tongue was moving slowly over your skin, pinpointing the spot. Kissing it, mentally marking it before he started sucking on it carefully. Your eyes fluttered shut, letting him do as he pleased. The sensation heightened even more as his hand found yours. He laced the fingers together, before pinning it to the bed.

“Don’t make it too big,” you breathed, tightening the grip on his hand. The laugh that came from his lips was sinister, cold fingers feeling under your hood but stopping at the dip in your back. He held you close as his lips returned to yours, teeth tugging on them carefully before he was kissing you. Like he wasn’t just sucking the blood out of your neck.

Taehyung pulls away, calm. “How was that?” His mood, a whole one-eighty as he sported a lopsided grin. A new glint in his eyes. “I like that..” His thumb pressed over the spot he was just working on before pulling you up with him. The kiss he pressed to your foreheaD? God, everything about him was addicting and you only had him for mere seconds.

“You’re an idiot.” Your face, no help as your cheeks light on fire. Taehyung grinned, his infamous smile as he kissed you again. Honestly, you’re about to fall back into the bed before your phone rings. You’re snapped out of the honeymoon phase as you quickly read the screen. “Shit— I gotta go! Jungkook is so gonna kick my ass!”

You scramble to gather yourself, picking up your keys as you almost hurdle up the stairs. Your arm is yanked back, almost out of your damn socket. You’re flung back into Taehyung’s body, the lips finding yours for one last time before he’s pushing your ass out the door.

“Text me when you’re home.. let me know Jungkook didn’t skin you.”

You both share a nervous laugh, your own feet leaving behind a dust trail as you eject into the car. The engine races to life, pulling out from the side of the street only to speed home. The drive is uneventful and gut-wrenching. You almost clip the mailbox as you pull into your spot in the driveway. You shut your car door softly, fingers not even having the chance to turn the knob before the front door flings open. Jungkook standing there, your stomach falling into your ass.

He knows.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Getting ice cream.” Y/N, you’re a fucking idiot.

Your brother pulls you by the hoodie gently so he can shut the door and lock it. “Cut the bullshit, I have your location dumbs. You’re not doing a good job of hiding that hickey on your neck either.” He’s whisper yelling, which lets you conclude that his friends were still in the living room. The brunette grumbles, popping his head in to make sure his friends were still entertained. “When did you and Taehyung start fucking?” God, the way he spat it out was malicious. But you had to defend yourself.

“Can you watch your mouth kook? We aren’t, we just— kissed,” you groaned. “I know it sounds bad, but it didn’t start until tonight.”

“So you are fucking?”

You roll your eyes. “No, we aren’t. What's the big deal anyway? We kissed a couple of times, Jungkook. Grow up.” You kick off your shoes, turning to the stairs but you have Jungkook’s hand to keep you in place.

“Y/N, I told you the deal. You’ve known the deal. I don’t want you with him, I can’t be a mediator. I won’t have my best friend dating my little sister.” Jungkook’s voice was low but firm. He was dead serious.

But so were you.

You rip your arm out of his grip. “Then don’t be one, and mind your fucking business. I don’t need your approval on who I date.” You want to move up the stairs, but you had to get the last word. “You know, at least he gives a shit. At least he cared about everything that happened with Yoongi. He straightened him out, made him apologize while you barely lifted a finger! If it comes to that point, then it’s between me and Taehyung, not you.” You storm off to your room, Jungkook grumbling.

“Then tell your fucking boyfriend that he can forget about our fucking friendship.”

You slam your door at his words, back pressed against it as you tried to cool off. You yanked your phone out of your pocket, texting Taehyung.

he’s such a fucking asshole. he just blew up on me for no reason.

You fall back into your bed, huffing angrily as Taehyung responds.

ya. he txted me n told me to find another ride to school tmrw. guess he was srs bout cutting me off

Fuck Jungkook.

...

You never saw yourself doing pretty much anything that surfaced within the two months after you and Taehyung started seeing each other. Secretly of course.

Even if the idiots called quits on their friendship, Jungkook would still kick Taehyung’s ass if he saw you together. You’ve been lying to Jungkook about where you go after school. He was still giving you the cold shoulder, suspecting that he blames you for their friendship ending. You couldn’t care less.

You had snuck out for the first time, to meet Taehyung at his house, and you would still be doing it even if Jungkook approved or not. It was his damn fault.

You still would’ve been in the busy part of the town’s bowling alley, Taehyung all over you. You weren’t really worried. The crowded part of the lot made it easy for the town’s druggies and smokers to do it safely, and no one would suspect a thing. Same with others like you and Taehyung. Thank god he had snatched the last spot in the corner of the asphalt lot.

“Ow!” You yelped loudly at the tug of your hair, Taehyung’s elbow leaning heavily on it. He pulled away from our neck, already looking mangled with the same crazy grin you’ve fallen in love with these past few weeks. He moves your hair safely out of the danger zone, offering a small ‘sorry’. He dives back into your skin, tongue lapping over the expanse of your neck before biting harshly. You sigh lazily, hand moving up into his hair as he placed the final kisses over his hickies.

He surges up to kiss you, falling right in line with him as your other hand makes quick work of feeling his naked body. Both of yours together, save for the underwear you both had on. You feel how toned he is, each muscle moving under his skin as he adjusts himself again between your legs, making you bite your lip.

Euphoric as you feel, you’re curious.

“Do you miss Kook? Be honest.”

Taehyung groans, head coming up from the trail he was leaving right above the hem of your bra. “You’re killing my boner, Y/N. I don’t wanna talk about your brother while I’m bout to fling this bra to the front seat.” You snort, laughing into your arm as Taehyung does the same. You grab his hand, lacing together your fingers as you bring his actions to a stop.

“babe, I'm serious. I just— I feel guilty sometimes.” You know that you shouldn’t, but it eats at you. “You’ve been friends since the third grade. I didn’t want to get in the middle of it.” Taehyung pulls away, a more serious expression on his features.

“I know. I do love kook— I always will, but it's his fault. If he can’t support us being together, then he’s just not a real one.”

You snicker at the phrase. “Just please let me know, okay? I understand, but I dunno. I always thought you guys would be each other's best man. Stupid things like that,” you hum, the fingers that were traveling up your back landed on your hip, playing with the band on your thong.

“I will. I’ll probably apologize to him soon, but not yet. I don’t want him watching my every move.” He grinned as he kissed you, trailing down your jaw. “Plus isn’t it fun like this? I think it’s a little sexier to fuck you in private.” You rolled your eyes, his cock hard against your thigh now as your face turns red.

“You’re so embarrassing,” you mumble, rolling over mentally. You’ll let the argument sit for tonight, hands resuming the schedule of moving down his navel until your nails hit the spot just under his boxers. Taehyung hums, rolling his cock into your hand.

Taehyung shrugs. “Stop acting so shy, you’re not a virgin,” he protests, hand on the back of your thigh as he brings it up against his hip, rutting into you like he was actually fucking you. “Not anymore at least.” Your face reddens as he mentioned it, remembering how you both had your first time together. But this wasn’t it. This was less innocent than you had been in the past.

You let out a soft moan at the action as he did it again, hand pressing to the fogged window as he grinned. He loved grinding against you, getting you more than riled up, his hand moving up your sternum. He’s quick with removing your bra, hickies from past endeavors laying on the skin of your chest. Taehyung has to lean back down, tongue lapping over your nipple, knowing he’s going to remark his territory.

It’s like electricity every time, your body hot against the cool leather of his chevy malibu. You love the way he toys with your nipples, biting them just enough to tease you, and not hurt you. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses to your ribcage, fingers dangerously low on your hip before they’re moving over your underwear. His fingers press against you through the fabric and you can start to feel it dampen as he rubs it slowly up and down.

“Fuck,” you whine, bucking into his hand. “Stop teasing.”

Taehyung’s eyes are shining with a new temptation, pulling your underwear down a bit to twist your clit between the pad of his fingers. His cock was definitely awake now, a dangerous grin on his face as he leaned over you.

“mmm, I think you should beg, like how you were doing last time.”

Your face bursts into flames at the reminder of how you were acting the last time. You’re not sure what the hell had gotten into you, but Taehyung was making you do a lot of embarrassing things. A part of you didn’t mind if it was pleasing him.

“Shut up,” you mumble, instantly whining at the loss of his fingers. He pulled your underwear back up to your hips and leaned back.

“So should I drive you home and drop you off while you’re pussy is dripping, or are you going to beg as I asked?” Fuck. You groaned, pulling him back. You definitely couldn’t go back home. “Did that hit a spot? You would be screwed if I made you go back home. You’d have to ride something to get rid of all this tension right here.” His fingers are moving the thong to the side, middle finger in down to the knuckle. You arch a little, his words making your head spin.

“Something to satisfy that greedy pussy like I do, and you can’t do that when your brother is in the next room, so I suggest you start begging, brat.”

You moan again, hand holding his forearm, nails digging into his skin. You loved it when he got like this. Dominant and demanding, god it made you crazy.

But begging was so embarrassing. “Fuck.. please—“

“Please, what?”

The blonde barely gave you time to even respond as he demanded another answer. You look up at him innocently, at least as innocently as you could with two of his fingers pumping your pussy.

“f-fuck me, please,” you begged, hips pushing down on his fingers eagerly as you bite your lip to muffle the noises. “hhh please fuck m-me into the seats, please.” You can tell he’s not satisfied. You wanted to curl and die from embarrassment. You knew you’d have to get lewder, his fingers working into you just right as your hand gripped the seatbelt dangling over your head.

“I dunno if you really want it,” he hummed normally, fingers coming out of you, glistening. He wastes no time sticking them into his mouth, cleaning them off.

You whined. “Please, I’ll d-do anything.. I’ll let you fuck my face against t-the window to sh-show everyone just how big your cock is— daddy.”

“Ohoho,” he laughed, not halting any actions as he pulls off your underwear to deposit it behind his head, pushing his boxers low enough to let his cock fall heavy on your slit. It wasn’t nearly enough, to feel it pulsing against your clit. “Keep going.” You can tell he’s living for the way you’re talking, eyes lidded as he’s fucking his cock up and down your folds, not daring to go inside.

“D-did daddy enjoy t-that name?” You try to act coy, but it fails. The bratty demeanor drops as his hand runs between the valley of your breasts, right onto your neck, applying force. “please... I want to feel y-your cock in m-my stoma—“ Taehyung watches your face as your words drop off, his cock moving into you at once until he physically couldn’t go anymore. You both were breathing heavily, the blonde unable to wait as his thumb moves over your lips.

“God you talk— so fucking sexy Y/N.” He pushed the thumb in your mouth and you immediately sucked on it, eyes watching him as he pulled out. He pushes his cock back in even harder, your back moving against the leather as his hand slips from the window to hold the back door handle. “You’re such a good.. a good girl when you b-beg for my cock.” The words light your stomach on fire. The past two times you guys had done anything, it was never like this. It was intimate and lustful sure. But it was pure. Right now, it was lust drive completely, Taehyung’s pupils blown out as he glared at you. You had never called each other names before, but you definitely reacted to what he said.

“m-move,” you choked out, lips running dry from how fast you were breathing. He grips your neck like a handle, hips snapping into yours as your leg moves off the side of the seat. “M-my fucking god… feels so fucking good.” Taehyung grins, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, licking into your mouth. You catch his tongue the best you can around the moans, his hips meeting yours every other second it seems. The soft radio plays tame impala in the background, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of his hips slapping your thighs, and the way he’s groaning.

It’s low enough to turn into a growl, the blonde’s eyes watch as he can see the faint outline of his dick in your stomach. The skin moves with him, and he’s fascinated by the hit, only fueling him to go deeper.

“Fucking look at that— fuck,” he moaned head tilted back a bit before he’s hovering over you. His chain dangles in your face as he fucks you hard enough that you’re convinced there’s gonna be bruises where he’s holding your hips for dear life. “Taking m-my cock like it’s the o-only thing you know how to do, and I bet it f-feels good in this tummy of yours huh?” You nod helplessly, whimpering as he grabs your hand and laces the fingers, pinning it to the leather behind your head.

“s-shit, hhh, it feels— god daddy it f-feels good,” you moan, voice cracking as he starts to move even faster. “D-do you l-like that name?”

He nods, eyes shutting for a bit as he looks up to the ceiling of the car, enjoying how tight you are around his cock. He takes the hand off of your neck, pinning both hands over your head as he absolutely drills you, making you whine.

“I do, fuck I do.. the way you say t-that and my fucking name—“ he chokes, pulling your legs up so he can get in at a deeper angle. “I h-have half the mind to fuck your f-face into this god d-damn seat.” Your eyes shut at the words, your high approaching dangerously close considering how deep he was in you. Eight inches didn’t go sparingly, rubbing against the best part of you, making your toes curl.

“t-then do it,” you challenge him, arching up into his chest as he kisses you to shut you the hell up. His head was spinning, loving the way your body reacted to him and opened up to him. He’s quick to forget about your hands, which are on him almost instantly as he regains the position on your neck.

“Y-you think I won’t?” God you fucking loved that voice. The low baritone sound of his words made you a mess. “T-think I won’t make you c-call Yoongi right now wh-while I slam this tight cunt into the ground.” You whined at it, his pace increasing as you gripped the seats, barely able to breathe as he choked you harder.

You’re honestly ready to cum, but as soon as the pleasure reached its peak, Taehyung was pulling out. You can’t even figure out which way is up before he’s grabbing you from between your thighs, flipping you over. It starts as soon as it stopped, his hand on the back of your neck as the side of your face is smushed to the seat.

Taehyung grins lazily, too fucked out for his own good as he slaps your ass loudly. You yelp at the action, jolting forward at the collision. “Look at this fucking ass.. n-never have I wanted to bury my cock into some—something so bad before.”

The blonde pushes his thumb into your wet cunt, spitting violently into your pussy, watching it drip. He followed it with his dick, filling you up instantly as you arched into the seats. His hand is twisting in your hair, wrapping around his fingers before he’s forcing you to look at the ceiling.

“I s-spit in that fucking cunt— cause it's mine,” he groaned, and you nodded the best you could. Your throat was tired, every moan bouncing with how hard he was fucking you, thighs trembling.

“taehyung— my god, tae,” you moaned, turning back a bit to see his ab muscles working overtime, moving tautly under the skin as he drilled you. “G-god I'm gonna—“

“Good girl,” he praised, watching sickly as his cock disappeared into your wet folds, watching your ass bounce with every thrust. “Cum on my cock, baby girl, please.” Now he was the one begging, voice getting whiny and airy, thrusts getting sloppy as he tried to keep hitting the spot he was. You couldn’t even think anymore, the slow climb to your climax was irritating almost, before you feel two pads against your clit, rubbing it side to side. You definitely weren’t going to last now, hips bucking as you tried to warn your boyfriend.

“g-god fucking damn,” Taehyung whined, feeling you squeeze him airtight before you cum hard on him.

You’re moaning over and over again, and a little too loudly for taehyung’s own liking, hand covering your mouth as he finally had come inside you too. He cursed loudly, not even fucking you anymore. He buried himself in you to let out his cum, groaning as he felt it flood your pussy.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, wanting to slump against the seat but Taehyung’s hand is keeping you steady. He pulls out his cock, whining at the feeling as he spreads your lips open to watch the cum fall out. You swat his hand away at the action, trying to catch your breath as you flip onto your back, pulling him gently by the chain to come to lay with you.

“You’re tight as hell,” he breathed, making you laugh loudly, still out of breath. He kissed your forehead softly, followed by your entire face, making sure you were okay. This was always the best part. The aftercare, and feeling how much he really cared for you as he cleaned you both up the best he could before forfeiting to exhaustion.

“You’re such an idiot,” you mumble finally as he lays with you again, kissing him slowly on the lips. “I love you.” Taehyung smiled at the words, turning you back as he kissed you back, holding you close. You didn’t care about Jungkook anymore. You loved him and you wanted him. No matter what that came with. You wanted to be with him.

“I love you too,” he mumbles, right against your lips before kissing you again. You wanted it to stay like this forever. Care-free, enjoyable. You know that once you get out of this car and return to your own, you’ll have to face your brother again. You’d have to keep facing him every day until you could come clean to him, and who knows how long that’ll be. For now, you relax into Taehyung’s arms. Who knows when you’d get a chance like this again.

The next morning was, as usual, the usual glow of sex on your face. You may have been a little sore, but you couldn’t care less. The night, any night with Taehyung, had you on cloud nine. You could tell he wanted you, not your body. He had worshipped you as no boy had done before. Your head was over the moon.

Even as a relief, it was still irritating to receive your period the next morning. You shuffle through the locker, grabbing the emergency tampons and shoving them into your pocket. The locker shuts and you’re ready to break it to the bathroom, but you’re almost clotheslined by an arm.

“Nice vampire bite.” The voice is venomous and sour. You already knew it was Yoongi before you ripped your eyes to meet his. “Another guy who is just using you.” You scoff while trying to move past him, but he’s larger than you. Encasing you to the lockers.

The laugh is evil. “You’re a fucking pussy, Y/N. You were sooo hurt by my comment that you had to send your brother's bitch of a lap dog to come ‘straighten me out’ huh?” Your heart is pounding in your ears, scared of what he was going to do next. You doubt he was going to do anything so drastic.

“Guess it didn’t stick with you, huh?” You retort quickly, watching as others were crowding the hallway because of the previous bell.

For that reason, he leans in. “If someone says they’re with you, for any other reason than fucking you? They’re lying.”

Your eyes water, failing to meet his gaze. You have half the mind to slap him, but you’re not even sure what you’re going to say next. Not when a flash of a blonde is grabbing the menace by his collar, pushing him back into the locker. The grip Taehyung has on his shirt is deadly, the usual pink hue to his knuckles are white out of anger. He pulls the raven-haired senior off the wall just to slam him again, teeth bared. Eyes narrowed, not backing down from the challenge. Any other day, you would’ve found this extremely hot.

“Say one more fucking thing about her.”`

Yoongi snorts. “Sorry, bitch boy, did I hit a nerve? Surprised you’re defending her after all the sneaking around you’ve been doing.” Taehyung didn’t even know how the fuck he knew about you guys, but he didn’t care. Taehyung was seeing red right now, taking every ounce of restraint he could muster to not crack his face. “Haven’t gotten tired of her yet? You will soon.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Taehyung snaps. “Why do you even care? It’s been almost two months.” Yoongi’s eyes snap over to you, noticing Jungkook right by your side as he tries to guide you away. You’re frozen.

“Why do you care? You aren’t even together— all you are is Jungkook’s bitch.” Taehyung couldn’t keep it together anymore, ready to wind back his arm before he notices the crowd, his former best friend front, and center. He backs as quickly as he tackled him, ready to walk to his next class. “Right, wouldn’t want to expose our little secret? Cause what the fuck is she to you?”

Taehyung turns on his heels, arm pulling back as he wound up to hit him before a large hand is holding his. It was the school security, pushing Taehyung towards the office. He turned to check on you, eyes wide as you and your brother were absent. The blonde had to sit in the office and listen to an hour of scolding, finally getting off with detention. He doesn’t even bother going home, immediately making his way to your house.

He thought a lot about what had happened, a pit turning in his stomach. He probably just confirmed any of Jungkook’s suspicions, watching him freak out over you like that. But the blonde didn’t care. Part of him was hoping you weren’t home facing Jungkook’s wrath, and another part of him was proud of what happened today. If anything, that showed Jungkook how much Taehyung really cared for you.

None of that mattered. Jungkook would still pick his own side.

The said raven was watching you sleep peacefully. He couldn’t believe that two boys were fighting over his little sister, one being his best friend. It was so idiotic and pointless. He’s a little relieved that Taehyung was there for you, but he couldn’t ignore what Yoongi said. ‘Your little secret’? He suspected they were meeting up behind his back, and that only enraged him even more. He didn’t want to have to deal with another boy breaking your heart.

Would Taehyung ever do that?

Jungkook is startled out of his thoughts at the sound of the doorbell, opening it to see Taehyung. Both of their stomachs are wrenching in their core, the still silence is unsettling. Never in his life did Taehyung think there would be a sour moment, yet here it was.

“She’s asleep. What do you need?” The tone hurts. It’s sour and stern, and foreign. A tone that he’s never heard come out of Jungkook’s mouth, and it makes him lose his train of thought. His fingers play idly with the strings on his sweater.

He inhales. “Dude, look. I know— I fucked up, and I’m sorry. You know I would never hurt her like that. Even if I did, I know the consequences.” Taehyung wanted to roll over and just apologize, but he needed to stand his ground. “What has you so bent? You know me, Kook. What’s so bad about us being together if we’re both happy.”

Jungkook shakes his head, arms crossed. “That’s not the point.”

“How is it not?”

“You went behind my back and got with her, even after I told you not to— the one thing I ask you not to do, and you do it. It puts me in an uncomfortable situation, and now it is for her too.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Because of Yoongi? What the hell did you want me to do? If you were there and heard him talking that way about her, you would’ve done the same.” Taehyungs anger is boiling now, thinking about the situation. “But you weren’t, so I had to do your job and take care of it.”

Taehyung immediately regrets saying that, considering the door slams in his face. He groans. I’m a fucking idiot.

The Blonde trudged back to his own house, head full. He knew all of this was a bad idea, hence why he was hesitant to be with you in the first place. Unfortunately, once he had been with you, the want was overbearing. To just give it up over one stupid day? He couldn’t just let you go.

Taehyung finally feels some weight drop as he falls into bed, more exhausted than he’s ever been in a while. The frame on his bedside tables hurts the familiar faces of you and Jungkook alongside the blonde on his sixteenth birthday. He had the biggest crush on you ever and to be honest, he’s not sure he’s stopped ever since you bandaged his knee in the third grade. It sounds so fucking dumb, but he can’t help smiling at the thought.

It makes sense why none of his other relationships worked out, considering he was always looking for you in other girlfriends. That's why He can’t let you go, and it’s why his heart leaps when he sees you calling.

“Hey,” he breathes, relief flooding his body. You take a bit to respond, chewing words around in your mouth.

“Hey... I heard you and Jungkook outside so.. thank you, for dealing with Yoongi.”

Taehyung stammered. “You’re not mad?”

“Well,” you sigh, laying back into your pillows. “I don’t agree with how you handled it, but.. you did it for me, and I love you for that.” Taehyung’s heart restarts as he sits up, a dorky smile on his face.

“I love you too, Y/N…” You smiled, butterflies as you sighed. It made you happy to hear that. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna talk to Jungkook and see why he’s really bent. Maybe I’ll change his mind.”

You shrug. “I dunno if he’ll ever get over it, it really irritates him.” You could not pinpoint why, and it irritated you even more.

“I know, but I have to try.” Taehyung groaned. He was a simp. “Imma see what the real reason is.”

Even as you two talked on the phone, it lifted your mind. After everything with Yoongi today, your mind racing as it finally relaxes once you settle into bed. Taehyung’s voice runs through your ears and you think about the couple of months you’ve had with him. A little carefree and mischievous. You just wanted to go back, and not have to face anything tomorrow.

The morning is lonely for Taehyung. A morning where usually it would be him and Jungkook, it was just him. No texts, no screenshots from the game last night, no sitting in his car while all of you sang horrible karaoke. It just wasn’t the same, and he hated pretending like it was. He finally got to school, opening his locker. The day was just as dull, sitting alone at lunch while you and your brother sat with his friends. You wanted to sit with him so badly, but you knew that Jungkook and Taehyung had to resolve things before you could be together. And it was so dramatic, and for what?

You stabbed at the pasta your mom had cooked last night, eyeing the devils incarnate across the room. Yoongi’s eyes were on you and you wanted to do nothing more than shoving his face into his cold pizza. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to start more drama. You wanted to go home and have a nice calm weekend… texting your boyfriend… who wasn’t yours but, it’s all the same.

The day gets duller as it goes on for both parties. Taehyung is mulling through the last period of the day. Of course, it was math.

He gated algebra and it blows that it’s the last fucking class. He feels refreshed once the last bell rings, but the walk to his locker is just as lonely as the last month had been feeling. Taehyung unlocked his locker, ready to just leave already. He would be angrily shoving books into his locker now before a picture falls freely out of his locker. He can barely recognize the interior of his car before it feels like everyone is staring at him.

His throat is so fucking dry, he can barely breathe. He picks up the photo, stomach-dropping into his fucking ass.

His brown eyes round the hallway, seeing everyone has received the same picture, and everyone was staring at him.

He had never run so fast in his life once his brain had processed what was happening. He rounds the corner, to see your locker and you’re not there. But it’s wide fucking open, thousands of copies scattered on the floor and the metal door. Jungkook stood, motionless and silent, as he looked at the photos. A million pictures of his best friend and his sister— making out in a car. Taehyung, who was still stumbling over his shock, had watched Jungkook slam the locker shut and approach him. God he was ready to shit his pants, for his life was about to flash before his eyes. He braced his muscles for any form of attack. It doesn’t come.

“Open your eyes, shit head.”

Taehyung blinked an eye open. “You aren’t gonna kick my ass?”

“No,” he grumbled. Taehyung wanted to laugh considering that nickname from him sounded so good. Like they were back to normal. “Now isn't the time to be worried about you and my sister, fuck. that. I’m not worried about this, I’m worried about what fucking prick would send this shit around, she’s a fucking minor.” There, Taehyung can see it. Jungkook’s scared. He’s scared for his sister, and if they had switched places, Taehyung would feel the same way. He can understand where Jungkook is coming from now, with his entire argument. He wanted to protect her from assholes like this, and as much as Taehyung could argue with him; he’ll never understand what it was like to have a baby sister.

But he drops it to save his ass. Taehyung remembers to breathe once his shirt gets dropped, but he’s still being pulled back towards his locker. Jungkook collecting all the pictures he can, shoving them deep into the trash. Cause fuck this. Jungkook hated the idea of them together, and truthfully he has no clue why. He wants to protect her, but there’s another layer. That aside, they were gonna find out who the hell did this.

“Kook. you need me to spell it o—“

Jungkook slammed a poor kid into a locker to grab the picture from him, ripping it in half. “The moment I find out who the fuck this is, I’m gonna smash his face into the fucking ground.” Jungkook was filled with rage, disposing every last picture he possibly could before dragging Taehyung out to the lot. He shoved his bag into the backseat, holding the raven in place.

“Bro,” he said calmly, looking at his best friend. “Who else? it’s Yoongi. he was talking all that shit in the hallways, like who else?” Jungkook nodded. it made sense. Yoongi was a prideful person, but who else would go through the trouble of humiliating her like this.

“So what now?”

Taehyung shrugged, leaning against the hood of his car. “The only thing I’m thinking of is that we go kick his fucking ass.” Jungkook rounded the car quickly as they both got in, engine revving.

“Sounds like a plan.”

The drive to Yoongi’s hangout was silent. It was a little bittersweet that they were going to kick his ass in the same parking lot where those pictures took place. Taehyung was admittedly a little nervous. He knew you didn’t like fights or conflict and this was the opposite of everything you didn’t like. If he wanted to make a point, that’s a decision he’d have to live with.

Jungkook grumbled irritably. “God, the moment I see him I’m gonna rip his head off. What a fucking— oh my god.” The raven’s voice cut off as they pulled up to the bowling alley, noticing Yoongi there with three of his friends. The two shared a look, and they were both scared shitless.

“How are we gonna beat them? Four against two ain’t fair,” Taehyung whined, Jungkook throwing the car into park. Jungkook was trying to strategize in his head, but the only conclusion he had was to face this shit head-on. They both exit the car, rounding the lot to meet the four sitting on the edge of Yoongi’s car.

Yoongi’s the first to notice, jumping a bit but posing like he was a threat once his friends noticed.

“So, it is true that you’re his lapdog?” Yoongi laughed. “I was right about you, and in the hallway, I bet you wanted to kick my ass huh?”

Taehyung stepped forward. “I want to kick your fucking ass right now. Where you the one who printed out those pictures?”

“Yeah.”

He admitted it effortlessly, the plain smirk on his smug face was seriously pissing Taehyung off.

“What the fuck for?” Taehyung’s fists were balled as the elder boy stepped closer, unable to resist punching him in the face.

Yoongi shrugged. “‘Cause I wanted her to see that every boy she’ll ever meet wants to fuck her; nothing more, nothing less.”

Taehyung wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment or not, but Jungkook was the first to jump. His fist connected with Yoongi’s jaw followed by a loud crack. That’s when the fight broke out.

You sat in your bed, bundled in your brother's sweatshirt as you flipped through Netflix on your mac. You were barely paying attention considering you were chewing off all your nails. You hadn’t heard from Jungkook or Taehyung since you had left school. You were a little distraught, but honestly, there was a big event every week at your school and you prayed this would blow over. You knew it was Yoongi anyways and you kind of figured that those two idiots would have done something by now. Or maybe Jungkook still wouldn’t forgive him after this. Maybe they would still be mad— maybe they weren’t even together.

Your head was swarming with thoughts but you were too exhausted to pick up the phone. You turn to another episode of some random crime show, laying back into the mountain of pillows before your stomach lurches at the sound of a car door. Two doors to be exact, and they slam shut. You spring from the bed, racing to the top of the stairs. Your eyes meet with two boys.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Taehyung laughs, wiping the blood that’s dripping from his nose while Jungkook’s laugh rings through the previously silent house. It was like music to hear them laughing together, shoulders bumping as they made it into the entryway of the house. It takes a bit to realize that they’ve had their asses kicked. Like they were jumped.

You race down the stairs. “Oh my god. what the hell happened?” Jungkook’s lip was split, eye bruising slowly as he limped over to you. “Did you two idiots get hit by a car or something?” The two laugh in sync, fist-bumping each other as Jungkook waves off the concern.

“Believe it or not, we won.”

You snort. “Won what?” Taehyung kicks off his shoes, holding his sleeve to his nose. You notice his eyebrow is split as well, knuckles bruised.

“We went and kicked Yoongi’s ass. He had some randoms with him but we came through in the end,” Jungkook breathed. “I’m glad you were there with me, bro.” You let your heart warm for them. You knew they were hurting, watching the two boys hug. You knew they meant it, them both pulling away as Jungkook hugged you as well.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do more when Yoongi was first acting up. I should’ve straightened him out the first night you told him about us.”

You shake your head, hugging him tighter. “Shut up. You just got your ass handed to you, don’t apologize.” You three laugh and god, it feels good. It feels normal until your eyes linger on Taehyung slowly. You wanted to hug him and kiss him, despite his face being bloody. You’re ready to retreat to the kitchen, but Jungkook stops you. He pushes you towards the blonde while he starts to rummage the fridge for ice.

You’re hesitant and so is Taehyung, but once you felt it was okay, you moved. It felt free and honest, holding his face in your hands to kiss him. He returns it with equal force, slow and meaningful. He pulls away, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Yoongi won’t be a problem anymore,” Taehyung breathed, hands on your waist.

You laugh sadly, thumbing over the mark on his eyebrow. “You barely made it out alive, dork… but thank you. Seriously, both of you,” You mumble, eyes looking to your brother. You’re ready to start a speech but Taehyung cuts you off, the blonde practically trembling next to you.

“I know this may be weird, but I’m sorry for sneaking around with your sister. This is gonna sound so formal and cheesy, and it’s making me want to puke, but I love her a—“

Jungkook groans. “God just shut up.” Jungkook was doubled over, fake puking noises coming from his mouth. You laugh a little, a thousand weights off of your shoulder as your fingers lace with Taehyung’s. “I was a little mad in the beginning cause you’re my baby sister… and you’re my best friend. That put’s me in a difficult spot.”

He continues. “Even so, I can tell that it won’t be an issue. Taehyung cares about you, I can see that now. Especially with how hard he was kicking that idiot’s ass—“ You snort, punching Jungkook’s arm. But he shrugs. “I’m serious. I’m fine with you guys. I want you to be happy and if that’s with each other, I can live with that.” You hum happily, pulling them both into a group hug. The love you felt from both of them was radiating.

Of course, Jungkook had to ruin the moment.

“I better not see you guys making out, or I will throw up on you, got it?”

You and Taehyung swear to him, laughing as you three trailed to the kitchen so you could start healing their cuts. Jungkook, however, falls behind. His heart feels heavy and before he had no clue why. He watched you two kiss, the hand on your waist making his stomach drop. He knows now why he didn’t want you guys to be together.

He didn’t want to share Taehyung with you for a specific reason. One he’s not ready to admit yet.

He knows it’s resentful and jealous.

#bts #bts smut #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #v x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook

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spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

Bridge Over Troubled Water • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Requests: can you do a blurb with Remus where the reader is nervous and anxious, maybe has a tough week and he gives her a massage and helps her relax? — anon and Hi! can you write an imagine where the reader is dating Remus and is disappointed in her school grades / results and is overall doubting herself and is disappointed with herself? — @emmaev

Summary: Things are getting really tough. Remus is here for you.

Warnings: mention of food, not eating/skipping a meal, hunger, depression, anxiety, a bit of a panic attack, homework, school, self deprecating thoughts, kinda take how we’re feeling in this pandemic and that’s kinda what this fic is, Snape being an ass for like two sentences, crying

Word Count: 1.7k

A.N: I hope it’s alright that I combined your two requests. But, I decided to make it longer with a lot more comfort. I really hope it’s ok with you guys ❤️ Kinda a vent fic? So that’s why it’s lowkey all over the place and the ending is sorta..abrupt? I hope you like it, though. I wanna say that I’m always here for you guys. This whole thing has been kicking my ass and school has been extremely tough for me, so know that you’re not alone. Know that you’ve got this. I believe wholeheartedly in you. Love you all. ❤️

Title: Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water

****

You trudge up the stone steps to the boys dorms, your bag dragging heavily behind you. With your robes slipping from your shoulders and your tie dangling loosely around your neck, you almost consider letting your bag go. Watching the heavy sack of books tumble recklessly down the spiral staircase seems like a great idea to you. However, you make it to the sixth year dorms before you’re able to loosen your grip.

The oak door was closed but not locked. What use was a lock when the door was charmed to singe off the eyebrows of any unwelcome visitor? Thankfully, the boys granted you complete access to their room in third year, so the door couldn’t harm you.

Turning the brass doorknob and stepping through the threshold, you’re greeted by somewhat organized chaos.

Sirius and Peter’s side of the room was a complete disaster while James and Remus’ side was at least nicer to look at. Sure a few books were scattered on the floor and James’ red and yellow underwear was hanging from his bedpost visible to anyone who walked in, but that’s nothing compared to whatever the other two have going on. You don’t even want to look at it, knowing full well that just one tiny glance would make your already terrible day worse.

The room is empty and completely quiet, the boys, just like every other person in the castle, were down in the Great Hall for dinner. At the thought of dinner just downstairs, your stomach grumbles before quickly churning in agony.

Quickly, you dump your bag next to the door and go through Remus’ drawers, searching for that one specific jumper.

It’s the deep blue cable knit one that always smells like him. The jumper is soft and warm and the perfect piece of clothing to cuddle into when you needed a good cry. And Godric, you needed a good, long, ugly cry.

After finding it and throwing it on, you barely lift up your feet walking to your boyfriend’s bed to get swallowed up by his blankets.

The weight of the day hits you full force the moment your head collides with his pillow, and your lips wobbles, the day replaying in your mind.

Your morning started with a Transfiguration exam that definitely was not on what you studied all night for.

Then, your potion bubbled out of your cauldron and started disintegrating the stone flooring, making Slughorn shoot you very disappointed look that made you want to disappear into the Forbidden Forest forever.

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned into a complete disaster as well when Professor Bluebell handed back your essays on inferi, and yours ended up with a spikey red D scrawled angrily on the top. D, which stands for Dreadful, as Snape snidely reminded you from over your shoulder. He flashed you smug little smirk along with the delicate O that adorned his own essay.

And to top it all off, you had to meet up with Flitwick right after classes to go over the vinegar to wine charm that for some reason wouldn’t work for you no matter how hard you tried. And you still weren’t successful.

This was becoming a common occurrence.

You always knew that your N.E.W.T. year was going to be tough, but Merlin, you never expected it to be this awful.

Classes were longer and harder and your professors were relentless and unforgiving with the amount of homework and exams they started handing out.

Sure you had more free periods, but those were filled with research and essays and studying, you had no free time at all—it was all a lie.

You couldn’t escape it. Sleep was just more time to be plagued by anxiety to the point you barely even slept at all. Most of the time you stared blankly up at the ceiling thinking about all the assignments you could be doing instead.

It’s this torturous and vicious cycle that you just can’t get out of.

And your motivation was quickly disappearing.

It was getting tougher and tougher each time to even do your homework. Lifting up your quill and taking out a stack of parchment was just difficult. It took too much energy out of you.

Smothering your face in Remus’ pillow, you groan out your frustration, balling your fists around the frayed sleeves of the jumper.

You’re so wrapped up in your despair and panic that you don’t hear the door creak open and four sets of footfalls and laughter bounce around the room.

“Damn, what’s up with you?” Sirius chuckles. You hear him flop onto his own bed.

You bury your nose in the fabric of the jumper, inhaling the sweet and comforting scent of chocolate and old parchment that always accompanies Remus Lupin.

“Don’t be a git, Pads.” Remus scoffs, making his way towards you.

He crouches down by your head, placing a delicate thumb on your cheekbone.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” His tone turns soft, drenched with concern.

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, tears trickling down the bridge of your nose and dripping down to the white sheets.

“Alright, darling, hold on.” Remus whispers, placing a dainty kiss on your forehead.

He straightens up, knees creaking the way no sixteen year old’s should.

“Alright, lads, clear out.” Remus declares to his friends.

“You can’t kick me out of my room, Moony. No way.” You hear James whine.

“Yes, I can, Prongs, c’mon. Go play chess with Peter or something.”

“But he always beats me.”

“C’mon, Prongsie, we can scam the first years by making them place bets on you winning.” Sirius suggests. His boots click against the floorboards, trailing towards the door.

Peter’s light footsteps follow after them.

“Fine.” James huffs dramatically. “But I’m not sleeping on the couch again, so no funny business.”

The door slams shut and once again you’re met with silence, though you do hear Remus changing out of his uniform and into more comfortable attire.

The bed dips underneath Remus’ weight and his hand gently starts to stroke through your hair.

“Tell me what’s wrong, my love.” Remus mumbles just loud enough for you to hear.

You try to swallow down the lump in the back of your throat.

“Just a very shitty day, Rem.” You manage to croak out, the words choppy and wavering.

Tears begin to flow freely, warm salty streaks making their way down your face in rapid succession.

“Oh darling.” Remus coos, practically pulling you into his arms and between his legs. You bury your face into his neck, tears dampening his scarred flesh. “It’s alright, let it out.” He continues to run your hair between his fingers. “Let it all out...”

“I-I’m just so stupid!” You sob, choking on spit. “Everything’s just getting too much and I can’t fucking take it anymore!”

He squeezes you closer to his chest, opting to stay silent so you can vent everything off of your chest. His cheek is pressed to the top of your head and you’re vaguely aware that you’re being rocked gently back and forth.

“It’s so hard!” You continue to wail, lungs constricting rapidly. It’s a struggle to keep breathing and your words barely come out fully, instead broken fragments are the only things spewing out.

“I’m a failure!” You spit out, face wet with tears.

“You’re not a failure, my love. I promise.” Remus tried to soothe, his voice adopting a small but noticeable waver. His hand rubs your back.

“I am! I’m a disappointment!” You sniff, taking in deep gulps of air.

“Shh...” Remus pulls you back a bit so he can see your entire face.

You already know you look disgusting. Eyes blotchy and red, tears streaming down your face. Snotty, spitty, wobbling, and watery features taking up his entire vision.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm? Let me help.” He consoles you softly.

You gaze into his warm honey brown eyes, glistening with his own tears.

You sniff, rubbing the sleeves of Remus’ stolen jumper across your face in an attempt to dry yourself off.

“Everything’s slipping, Rem. My grades, my mental health, everything. And I’m so lost I don’t know what to do anymore.” You confess. “What am I supposed to do?” You bring your hands up to you hair, tugging at your scalp enough for you to feel sparks of pain.

Quickly, his own trembling hands take yours. He stops you from tugging, instead bringing them to rest on his jumper clad chest.

You swallow harshly.

“I’m going to help you, (Y/n)—“

“You can’t help me, Remus! I’m beyond help—“

“No, you’re not.” He retorts lightly. “I’ll help you with homework and help you ask for a few extensions...we can get you back on track.”

“Remus...” Your voice trembles at his kindness.

“I’m sorry.” He rasps out, a tear or two slipping from his waterline. “I’m so so sorry that I didn’t see you suffering like this. Merlin, (Y/n).”

Shaking his head at himself, he brings his forehead down to your own.

“I’ll be better. I’ll be better, I swear.” Remus keeps repeating in a pained mutter.

“It’s not your fault, Rem. I got good at acting like everything was fine.” Your voice cracks.

“Still! I should’ve realized!” He mutters angrily.

“I love you, Remus. I love you so much, please don’t beat yourself up over this.” You plead.

He bites his lip, deciding to drop it, instead focusing on you.

“Why don’t we try to relax, hm? Just take a nice night off?” Remus suggests, pulling away to brush strands of hair away from your sticky face.

“But what about homework—?”

“Tomorrow, love. I think we deserve a break, don’t you?”

You shlyly nod, and he presses his lips to your forehead.

“You’re beautiful, darling.” Remus whispers.

“I just bawled my eyes out, Rem, I’m sure I look like a swamp hag.” You snort.

He brings his hands to your shoulders, rubbing deep circles into your back muscles. The knots start to dissipate.

“Never seen a swamp hag as angelic as you.” Remus flirts. But his voice is so sincere and honest, you have no choice but to somewhat believe him.

“Thank you, Remus.” You smile. “It means so much to me.”

“Anything for the love of my life.” He confesses, trailing his pink lips down your neck. “Now let me hold you close.”

He lays down, resting his head on his pillow, your head resting on his chest.

Things are going to get better.

Probably not tomorrow.

Probably not this week.

But things will.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #the marauders x reader #the marauders

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savagetrickster · 4 years

Text

Stay with Me | BNHA

request: Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character: bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou, college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders.

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him.

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.”

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week.

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly, finally looking away from the outside.

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression.

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell.

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima.

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm.

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere.

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce.

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual.

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.”

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons.

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks.

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs.

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron.

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle.

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else—

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility.

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope.

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them.

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin.

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm.

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth.

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say,

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?”

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look.

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him.

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate.

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you.

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you.

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bnha katsuki x reader

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner / Tell Me to Stop

Request: "The heater broke and I’m freezing get over here" + "The Classic™: The hotel only has a king sized bed, I guess we’re sharing."

Word Count: 5,188

Warnings: Fluff, angst, some violence (its criminal minds, what do you expect), me having way too much fun with one of my fav tropes

“Sorry you got stuck with the short end of the stick,” Hotch intones, the two of you carrying your go-bags into the small motel you were now stranded in. The team had flown down to this small town in the middle of nowhere – with one hotel in the nearby vicinity. Unfortunately, being the only hotel did not mean superior technology - they had double booked two rooms. Which meant, two members had to be put up at a nearby motel – and lucky you, you both had drawn the short straws.

“Short end?” you smile up at Hotch, who looks as unruffled as ever, “Did you see the first hotel?” He snorts in reply, “Pretty sure I saw fifteen health code violations walking past the threshold.”

“And this is any better?” you shrug, looking around – it was a small motel: rundown, not well lit (you wondered if that for the more discreet clientele or because they couldn’t be bothered to change the lightbulbs out), and even the bell Hotch dinged at the counter was all but rusted over completely.

“Well, it’s not the outdoors in the middle of winter. So, I’ll take it,” his lips quirked upwards, and you couldn’t help but stare a moment – his smiles were few and far between these days, especially after Haley. Any smile you could pry from him was something you cherished, even though you would never admit it.

“Room for two?” you jumped, not noticing the woman who appeared at the counter now. Her sleeves of her flannel shirt were rolled up, despite the cold, and her straw like hair framed her face, grinning too widely at the two of you.

Hotch seemed unfazed, “Two rooms actually. We were sent over here by the Creswell Hotel in town. They said you would accommodate us.”

“Yes, yes,” she flipped through some charts, “Unfortunately one of the rooms we had for you was just taken.”

“You booked the room you were holding for us?” you repeated, and she looked up from her list, tilting her head.

“Did you expect me to hold it forever, my dear?”

You stared, voice rising with every word, “It’s only been twenty minutes since we left-”

“We’ll take the one room, thank you,” Hotch interjected, taking the key from the woman, and steering you away from the counter, “Sorry, I just didn’t want our other room to magically get booked.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” you shook your head, “sorry. I just can’t believe her. This is ridiculous.”

“Better than sleeping outside right?” you rolled your eyes at that, as the woman waved you over to your room. And that’s when it dawned on you.

You were going to be sharing a room with Hotch. She unlocked the room for you, handing Hotch the key, before flicking on the light.

Both your eyes fell on the bed. Bed. Singular.

There was one bed.

~~~

The conversation with the manager went as well as the first one did. There was nothing she could do. Of course, you thought, staring into your go-bag, of course you would end up sharing a hotel room with your boss.

“Do you mind if I shower first?” your head snapped up, and you shook your head, “Look, I know this is…uncomfortable, but it’s just a few nights. Obviously I’ll take the floor-”

“Hotch, I can take the floor-”

He shook his head, a wry smile pulling at his lips, “You take the bed,” and he adds, “that’s an order.”

“Also,” you call after him, “can we not tell the team about our…living arrangement?”

He quirks a brow, throwing his towel over his shoulder, “Morgan and Garcia don’t need to know about this.”

“Thank you,” he closes the door behind him, and after a minute or two, you hear the shower start to run. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your teeth bared down on your lip, remembering how much Garcia had teased you as you waited for the cab to take you to the motel.

“Come on, Y/N, we all know that you and Hotch-”

“Are co-workers, nothing more,” you hissed, pulling her aside, “There’s nothing between us. We’re just friends-”

“Friends who spend late nights at the office? Friends who stare at each other far too often? Come on, Y/N, you have worked here less time than most of the team and you have spent more weekends with him and Jack then the rest of us.”

“I-“ You sighed, holding your head, “I don’t want to push him into something he’s not ready for Penelope,”

She put her hands on her hips, “How is he supposed to know what he’s ready for when he doesn’t even know you’re an option?”

Her words continued to ring in your ears. You walked the length of the room – which was about 6 strides before you had to turn back around again. Your boss was currently showering, one door separating the two of you. Heat burned a trail down your cheeks, warming your neck.

Screw showering. You needed to go to sleep. You had to do something other than think about the words burning on your chest, ready to spring from your lips. The windows rattled, and you shivered, rubbing your sides as you knelt besides the radiator. Your fingers grazed the metal – it was barely warm. You turned the knobs, trying to get the heat going, until –

“What are you doing?” You jumped, the knob coming off in your hand.

Shit.

Your shower lasted far too long – but it was needed to wash away the sense of dread you felt. Unfortunately, as you turned the water off and stepped out, it was immediately replaced by nerves. You pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. You had opted not to wash your hair, knowing your odds of drying your hair would be slim to none, and you would rather not add a hospital trip to top off this wonderful night. You paused before the door, heaving a heavy sigh, before opening it.

You found Hotch not sleeping, but toying with the radiator, “You didn’t tell me you went to radiator repair school in between law school and the FBI.”

He shook his head, sighing, “I didn’t, but I’m starting to wonder if that would have more useful than my law degree.”

You shivered again, and it wasn’t just the shower – it had gotten colder in here and it would only get colder throughout the night. You glanced at the barebones set up that Hotch was going to calling a bed tonight, and back at him.

You caught his eye and he cut you off, “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Y/N,”

“Hotch-”

“It’s just one night, I can-”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that I sleep on the floor,” your cheeks burned, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I was going to say we both sleep on the bed.” He opened and closed his mouth, jaw set as he seemed to consider it, “We’re both adults. We’re friends.”

You sat on the bed, arms crossed, and he tilted his head, “And you’re fine with this?”

You gave a soft chuckle, “I suggested it, so yes.”

He sighed, “But-“

“Hotch,” you pulled yourself under the covers, “Get over here, it’s freezing.”

You tried to pay no mind as he slid into bed beside you, ever so careful – like everything he did. You noticed his hair was still damp from his shower, the smell of his shampoo strong – was it mint?

You shook yourself from these thoughts, turning from him to face the edge of the bed, “Good night.”

“Good night.”

You thought the end of it, but it wasn’t.

You couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how much you intimidated the act. Eyes closed, breaths even, snuggled in the corner of the bed, and yet…the Sandman denied you. You needed to sleep, at least for a few hours for tomorrow. A lack of sleep led to mistakes which could led to a life lost. And yet, you knew every second that passed as you thought about this was another second you weren’t sleeping. And finally, you narrowed the problem down to two things – one, your boss sleeping next to you and the fact you fell asleep sleeping the other way, which would entail facing him.

You couldn’t tell if Hotch was sleeping. He hadn’t moved much since he settled in. Was he pretending like you? The windows rattled again and a cold breeze made its way through the thin glass, and through your thin blanket.

Fuck it. It was cold and you were tired. You turned around, eyes still very much shut, but curiosity pulled at your eyelids to just peek.

But you didn’t have to.

“Still awake?” your eyes opened to find a pair of brown ones staring back at you.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “despite my best efforts.”

“Is something on your mind?”

“Not really,” besides not being able to sleep with you lying beside me, “How about you?”

“You know, I’ve spent a lot of time with you, and I still can’t figure out if you’re lying or not,” his brow raised, you bit back a smile, “You can’t always brush aside your own thoughts.”

“I can try,” you relent when he frowns, “Hotch, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? I’ve told you things I haven’t told anyone,” he admits, “things about Jack, about Haley. I want to be that for you too.” You stay silent, eyes staring at his pillow rather than him, “Unless you don’t trust me?”

“I do,” you sit up, allowing the blanket to bunch by your legs, and he follows suit, leaning on one hand. “Too much. That’s the problem.”

You lift your eyes to his, and you find him staring, his gaze heavy with the same emotions – fear, hesitance, and something else – something warmer.

Would it be so bad? You thought, would it be so bad to give yourself the one thing, the one person would’ve wanted so long, and allow yourself to have it? He dared closer, his breath against your lips, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, and I’ll sleep on the floor, and I’ll never try this again,” he whispers, so quietly, and it breaks your heart. It exudes of the hesitance, the desire, the brushes neither of you spoke of, the lingering looks, the simple domestic routine the two you adopted without a second glance, and the fear – the fear you would both lose it all.

“Don’t,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his again. And you are enamored – in how he feels so soft against your lips, in the warmth of his hand cupping your face, and the quiet whisper of your name on his lips when you part for a breath, “Hotch- Aaron, I-”

He draws away to look at you, and you shake your hand, fingers at the back of his head, carding through his hair, “I’ve just wanted this for so long,”

“I have too,” he admits, teeth brushing against his bottom lip, “I just never-”

“Wanted to hurt you,” you finish with a small laugh, “Garcia was right, we are both idiots.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and then to your forehead, “At least we learned,” you lean up to catch his lips in another kiss, and he returns it – his hands daring lower now, as you lean back into the plush of the bed. His lips leave yours, trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, “and I’ll never make the same mistake again.”

Your eyes open at the sound of your phone ringing, and you almost believe your in your own bed, until you feel someone shift beside you, and you hear his voice, “Hotchner,”

So, it wasn’t your phone. You blink sleep away from your eyes, and see him sitting in the bed beside you, “We’ll be right there.”

His forehead furrowed, and eyes dark, though his gaze softens when he sees you staring, “We have to go. They found another body.”

You sit up, pressing a small kiss to his lips, rolling your thumb to smooth his creased brow, “Let’s go.”

But he stops you, “About last night,” and your heart tightens at his expression, was it over that quickly? “I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done around you, so I’m going to have you work with Reid and help him nail down the geographic profile.”

Your worry dissipates, and your frown quickly grows into a grin, “Think I’ll be a distraction?” You sit up on your knees, attempting your best doe-eyed expression, and he smiles.

“You already were,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “it’s just for now. While we both get used to it.”

You drape your hands around his shoulders, pressing your foreheads together, “I know, and you better get used to it. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

~~~

You were working with Reid to put together a geographic profile, staring at the map pinned to the board in front of you. Reid had placed markers on the various places that the bodies had been discovered, along with abduction sites, looking for some sort of comfortable radius. Your brow scrunched in thought, you didn’t notice Garcia until she tapped your shoulder.

“Penelope, did you find something to help-”

“No, no, but they had to reset the internet in this place for the fiftieth time because this place doesn’t know Google Fiber from the fiber they eat at breakfast,” she waved you off, her painted lips curled in a mischievous grin as she pulled you aside not so subtly, asking much too loud, “How did it go last night?”

You were luckily expecting to be grilled by her, either sometime during this trip or on the plane ride back, “Nothing happened last night because we’re professionals on a case,” you rolled your eyes, “and because we’re just friends.” You added.

“Come on, I know something must have happened – Hotch always works with you in the field on these types of cases, and suddenly, you’re with Reid?” Reid looks up from the board, slightly affronted, “No offense baby boy.”

“Garcia, please,” you sighed, checking your phone, “The Wi-Fi’s back on, you should get back to work.” She protests, but you shake your head, “Unless you want me to tell the boss?”

She pouts, but relents, “I will get you to tell me what happened last night. Mark my words.”

You sigh, shutting the door behind her, turning back to the board, when you feel Reid look, “Got something to say?”

“It’s just interesting,”

You look over, and he bites his lip, “What is?”

“That you said you were professionals and then added you were friends,” Reid says, flipping through a case file, “almost like being friends was an afterthought, or that you’re something more. I just figured something out about the case.”

Your mouth hangs open as he puts the phone on speaker, and you hear Hotch’s voice ring out, “What did you find?”

Your head snaps up as you look from Reid to the phone, “He’s stalking the women in a pattern – it seems random, but when you-”

“Spence,” you cut him off gently, “I trust you, but where is he going to hit next?”

Reid’s eyes fly over the map, “The north end, the area that his second victim was taken.”

You hear Hotch give orders out to the local police and agents, “Both of you stay at the precinct and help Rossi deliver the profile.”

Rossi arrived shortly after, “We are looking for a man in his late 30s to early 40s,”

“A veteran, a man who’s seen the horrors of war and has remained untreated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Reid continued to the on-looking officers, who stood with either their brows furrowed or furiously scribbling notes, “This may be because of lack of access to resources from the V.A. or a refusal of treatment.”

“He is suffering from a psychotic break,” you intoned, pointing to the map and the scattered points concentrated in a southern part of the map, “he’s seeking his victims out in these areas that he is familiar with. We believed at first it was because he grew up in the area, but we no longer think that’s the case—”

“Why?” a man you recognized as a lieutenant pipe up, his stern face looking thoroughly unimpressed, his arms crossed, and eyebrows raised. He was just looking for an opportunity to undermine you, wasn’t he?

“Because,” you kept your tone carefully even, the last thing you needed to garner animosity amongst all these officers – the team was only there by there by their good graces, “someone who grew up in the area wouldn’t have ventured into this territory-“ you pointed to a section of woods to the west, “where bears often hibernate.”

He said nothing, and Rossi then continued, finishing up the profile, “We advise being cautious around this man, he is overwhelmed by his delusions and is extremely dangerous.”

“Unless it’s one of you?” the Lieutenant scoffed, muttering under his breath, “you just want the credit—”

“It isn’t about credit,” you snapped, “we are trying to stop a man from hurting more innocent people. The exact reason why we are all here, Lieutenant. Or did you forget?”

His face turned several shades of both red and purple, lips twisted in an ugly scowl that made his eyes bug out, and he stomped away towards his captain’s office. The sergeant cleared his throat, “Dismissed, get to work,” he crossed the bullpen as the chatter resumed, flashing you an apologetic look.

“You didn’t need to add the ‘did you forget?’” Rossi sighed, shaking his head.

“It was a reasonable question,” Reid started, before Rossi cut him off with a look.

“You’re going to have to talk to Hotch about this,” Rossi glanced at the lieutenant and captain barely visible through the captain’s parted blinds, “Or they will.”

“You what?” It had been a few hours, and still, the team had come up with nothing. Every time they got close, the unsub seemed to slip away – and now he knew the police were closing in on him. And now, he had resorted to guerilla tactics to hide out. The team’s only chance to catch him is when he will resurface for another target.

But that wasn’t your most pressing concern at the moment.

Instead it was your boss, standing on the other side of the bed, arms crossed, and brow thoroughly furrowed – though now you appreciated how much the suit did for the intimidation factor, because Hotch glaring at you in a t-shirt and boxers as opposed to his suit? Very much not the same thing. Although…difficult in other ways.

“I snapped at the lieutenant during the profile,” you keep eye contact with him, despite the growing need to look away from the mix of both anger and disappointment in his gaze, “we’re here to catch a murderer, and he was acting like it was-“

“A turf war? That’s because it is,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his brow, “You know we are only allowed to come to these places—”

“Yes, on good graces of these cops-” You scoff.

“They are officers,” he corrected you, his voice tight, “This is their community. I understand it’s frustrating to be undermined, but—”

“No, you wouldn’t understand,” you said quietly, a quiet chuckle lodged in the back of your throat.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

You turn away, holding your head, the ghost of a pressing headache on the horizon, “I’m a woman, I’m periodically underestimated just by my very existence – just by how I choose to define my gender and how society deems to view me. You, on the other hand, are an older white man – you can only fail up,” his lips were a tight frown, “So yes, I told that man the focus of our job is to catch bad guys because it was the truth.”

“It is,” Hotch said slowly, rounding the bed, hands raised, “But it’s not for us. Our job is to help them do their job, and we can’t do that if they stop calling us.”

“I know,” you cross your arms, “I know, I just—”

“Just what?” his arm slowly wraps around you, “what’s bothering you?”

Your fingers brush against his cheek, tracing his jaw, “This,” your fingers run across his lips, and he presses a kiss to the pads of them, “This will just be another reason for other people to underestimate me. Another reason to pass me over for a promotion. Another reason to—"

“I understand if you don’t want to do this,” he swallows, “I always did. I never want to hurt you or your career.”

“I know,” your lips press against his, “and that’s what makes it harder. Even though we shouldn’t,” another kiss, this time against his pulse point, “even though it’s probably wrong,” your lips grow more insistent now, his hands snaking lower and lower, “even though this is risking both our careers.”

And you pause, pressing your forehead to his, “But we shouldn’t,” his hands fell away, and you shook your head, the absence of his warmth making you shiver.

“We shouldn’t.”

He slept on the floor. It was somehow harder to sleep without him than it was with him. Probably because you knew what it felt like to sleep beside him. You hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring at his back as he quietly slept, wondering how you had come so close and gone so far in such a short amount of time.

It made your head spin. How could things change so quickly?

But anything could change – even in a single moment.

And it did.

~~~~

“We should pull her out,” Hotch watched your cam, as you hiked up the trail that yoy, Garcia, and Reid had pinpointed as one of two trails he could be hunting at, “she’s gone too far.”

“She can handle herself, Hotch,” Morgan intoned, arms crossed, “she’s got this.”

He kept his face in a careful mask, his mind was caught in a carefully concocted storm, and he could barely keep the walls up, “Ten more minutes,” he finally said. And it wasn’t a question – but an order.

But ten more minutes was all he needed.

Out of nowhere, he had you on the ground, knocked over the head – dragging you to where he kept his victims – including the one he still had. He kept each of his victims for shorter and shorter amounts of times. But he always got rid of them in the same way – he would grab another before he disposed of the other.

“Go, now,” Hotch said, before grabbing a vest, “And I’m coming too.”

~~~

You groaned; a soft noise pulled from the back of your throat. Damn bastard got the jump on you – although that was the point. Were you dead? But the ringing of your ears and the distinct screaming ache in your head told you that you most assuredly were not – death wouldn’t hurt this much.

“Are you okay?” a small voice asked, and you blinked, eyelids feeling heavier than the sky carried by Atlas, a titan with the weight of the world on his back – how wholly ironic, that’s how you always felt. And your shoulders ached just like his must have, but – the chains clanged above you – his pain wasn’t from being chained to a wall. “Hey, are you okay?”

Finally, your vision relented a few degrees of blurriness, allowing you to lift and turn your head – a woman chained the same way you were presumably – arms strung up high, joined by two cuffs looped around a chain that was hammered into a rocky wall of a cave.

“Yeah,” your head disagreed, screeching with every thought you had, “well not great,” your eyes squint in the darkness, looking for dancing shadows in the pitch black, “he isn’t…here is he?”

“No, you’ll know when he’s here – the smallest noise makes an echo,” she says, and she’s right – you can hear the tiniest of waterdrops plink against the stalagmites, “I think he’s going to kill me when he comes back.”

Her voice is raw, the terror quavering in her words, and you wonder – what he had done to her? Each victim had been tortured in different ways from the military – somewhere waterboarded, others were cut and bleed, others were beaten. Whatever it was – she spent the majority of the time screaming.

“It’s going to be okay,” you grit your teeth, trying to strain against the restraints, “my team is on their way, I’m an FBI agent.”

There’s a growl that emanates from the darkness, and then a roar, “WHO SENT YOU?”

The unsub charges forward, wild eyed and bleary, holding a shotgun to your neck, as the victim sobbed, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He made me-“

“SHUT UP,” he ripped apart your clothes until he found the camera and your GPS tracker, crushing it under his boot, “Now,” he pressed the barrel to your chin, “Who. Sent. You?”

~~~~

I took you for granted. That’s the first and only thought he has when he hears a gunshot ring out in the bowels of the cave, echoing with the hideous squelch of blood. A scream rings out, along with the sound of sobbing, following the shot with disturbing synchrony – a symphony of his worst nightmares.

He doesn’t remember much. He remembers running, the sounds of Morgan and JJ yelling for him, and small whimpers that sounded against the rocky crags. And he found you – covered in blood, the scarlet dripping running down your arms and a splash across your face. The unsub was on the ground, unconscious, in a pool of his own blood, as the woman beside you cried.

Morgan and JJ undid her restraints, while Hotch checked you over, his hands patting the length of your body for injuries, “Are you okay? What—” Your clothes were ripped up, the blood dripping across your chest. He pulls off his windbreaker and drapes it over your shoulders.

“He found out I was an agent, but he thought I was a Russian agent,” you shook your head, “he thinks he’s a soldier in the cold war. He had us chained to the wall. He was going to shoot me, but I managed to convince him that I was part of the same covert unit he believed he was in. He undid my chain and that’s when I went for his gun. He fired it and it caught him by the shoulder. He fell over from the recoil and knocked himself out.”

He frowned at the blood, that covered your body, “Then what—”

“Pig’s blood,” you wrinkled your nose, “He was going to cover me in it and then—” you cut yourself off, “either way, I’m okay.”

“I—” he cuts off, when Morgan and JJ call you guys out, “we’ll talk after.”

He watches you as the paramedic does a basic check-up, “Have you told her how you feel?”

He blinks, looking over to see Dave with a raised brow, “Yes, I have,”

Dave breaks out in a grin, “It’s about time—”

“We decided we shouldn’t be together, Dave,” he shakes his head.

“Aaron—”

“What will people say?” Hotch cuts him off, “about her? What will happen to her career—”

“You can’t control everything, Aaron. Neither of you will know what will happen if you date, but both of you know what will happen if you don’t—” Hotch tilts his head, as Dave sighs, holding forehead, “You’ll both be miserable. You make each other happy. She makes Jack happy. You don’t get that very often in life, Aaron. Take it when you get it.”

Dave nods, before walking towards the car, and Hotch takes one last look at you, wrapping up with the paramedic, before following him.

He knew what he had to do.

~~~

As you step off the plane and make your way into the office, you shake the events of the day off, “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Morgan squeezes you in a one armed hug, before Garcia crushes you in a full one, “whoa, whoa baby girl, easy, she just got patched up and now you’re already trying to break her in two.”

“I was just so worried,” Garcia stepped back, “are you sure you’re gonna be okay getting home?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” She squeezes your hand one last time.

“Call me if you need anything,” she says, walking towards the elevator door with Morgan, Reid, and JJ.

“You know it’s actually possible to split someone in two with just human sheer force?” you hear Reid say before the doors close.

“Reid, I didn’t need you to tell me that,”

You finish grabbing your stuff, heading towards the elevators, when Hotch calls your name, “Can I see you in my office for a second?”

You nod, following him to his office, heart in your throat.

He shuts the door behind you, and he just stares.

You tilt your head, shifting in place, unsure whether to sit or not, “Are you okay?”

He shakes himself from his stupor, “I should be asking you that,” he takes careful steps towards you, “I almost lost you today, I—”

“Aaron, you didn’t lose me,” you hold yourself back, from finding his hand, from cradling his cheek against your palm, instead keeping your arms crossed against your chest, “you could never lose me.”

“I already did,” he breathes, and instead his hand found your cheek, and his hand found your fingers, pulling them from your chest, “when I didn’t fight for us.”

“Aaron—”

“Tell me to stop,” Hotch tells you, fingers brushing gently over the curve of your face, “tell me to stop loving you, but I can’t. I’ve tried. I don’t think I ever will.”

“Our jobs—”

“We can talk to Strauss, together, we can figure this out. After almost losing you – something happened to you and we never—” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “You are taking a bigger risk than I am I know, I know you are,” his voice is strangled, “and I never want to pressure you into something you don’t want, but I’m telling you where I stand.”

“Aaron,”

“You don’t have to respond,” and you smile, fingers intertwined with his.

“Oh, but I have to,” and you press your lips to his, “because I love you, and I never want to lose you.”

He kisses you then, arms wrapping around your waist, as one of yours found purchase on his shoulder, the other fisted in his hair. His chuckle rumbles against your lips, “Sorry you got stuck with the short end of the stick,”

You laugh, shaking your head, “It’s never the short end if I’m with you.”

Tag List: @infj-slytherclaw, @ciarawriitesmarvel, @evans-dejong, @laneygthememequeen, @good-heavens-chris-evans, @aberrant-annie, @possum-pancakes, @spoken-stardust, @there-will-be-p-e-a-c-e, @quitepointless, @sabrinafey, @emmalvei-blog, @fantasy-never-ends, @ihateitwhenyourejustvague, @dreila03, @arabellathorne, @antmnwasp, @jellijinnie, @danisnonexistent, @peaskyblonders, @that-aesthetic-wannabe, @llamaproblem, @hurricanejjareau, @kmart2124, @ughitsbaby, @factualfic, @kamieshep, @freewriterofdarkness. @dizzydancingqueen, @evee87, @unusualtingz, @lavenderblossom12, @panagiasikelia, @alleycat2496, @witteksquad, @agenthotchxxxx, @aberrant-annie, @pan-pride-12, @possum-pancakes, @spoken-stardust, @carisilover, @cringeemospntrashassbutt, @aaronelishotch, @quitepointless, @geekgirleve, @amyisantisocial, @emmalvei-blog, @my-life-is-here-soo, @patricks-fabulous-face, @omg-its-vixen, @maraudermae, @flowersprettyflowers, @kobrakai1972, @bowieisawizard

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch x you #hotch x reader #criminal minds imagines #hotch imagines #hotch fanfiction

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— PALM TO PALM IS HOLY PALMER’S KISS ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1846

SUMMARY: You’re back to teaching at Gotham High and you end up overlooking rehearsals for the GHS drama club’s upcoming annual play: Romeo and Juliet that no one ever attends. In the spirit of keeping your students’ hopes up, you decide to take it upon yourself to draft out a plan to drive more people to come to the play. The key is the man you’re in love with.

WARNINGS: Vague description of a nightmare, death and an annoying teenager.

A/N: This is really going slowly like a true slow burn. I hope yall like this one. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

In the light of your unemployment as a teacher, Gotham High miraculously offered your old job back after Mrs Wilson, one of the senior English Literature teachers, died of a heart attack unannounced. In all seriousness, apologies were made, admitting they had a mistake with firing you because well, you were clearly a passionate teacher. To your surprise, you were told your students even missed you. Hence, you accepted a job from GHS once again because you would do anything to avoid the smell of burgers and the sounds of hungry crying children. After the whole burglary incident, the Big Belly Burger at midtown was forever doomed as customers gradually decreased over time. It was Gotham after all, people should be used to these kinds of things by now. Including witnessing Batman saving you, the whole experience felt like a fever dream. As excited you were and weirdly unbothered by the whole near-death experience, you realized that if you were to talk about it, no one would genuinely believe you anyway. He was a myth to most citizens of Gotham, but you’re an exception because you’re well acquainted with the knowledge that Bruce definitely knows Batman.

And oh boy, do they talk.

It’s your secret to keep and so is the Batarang you stole. You’re also dying to tell Bruce.

So, you find yourself back in the hallways, crowded with sweaty teenagers, but you would choose this over anything else in a heartbeat. Apart from returning to teaching uninterested students about the works of Shakespeare and Harper Lee and forcing reading lists onto them, you are also replacing Mrs Wilson as the GHS Drama Club’s advisor. Stage performance may be personally foreign to you but plays were practically your forte. That was how you ended up spending your Tuesday afternoons, preparing the members for the club’s annual play. This time, they decided to perform the classic: Romeo and Juliet.

As an English teacher, you were frankly sick of the play, forbidden love was a tad overrated to you. Yet the kids were genuinely trying their best. Shaniqua and Oscar were currently rehearsing their lines as the two infamous star-crossed lovers; You watched them with pride. The two were quiet in your classes but they truly shone on the stage of the school theatre.

“And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss—teach, what does this whole scene even mean?” Shaniqua exclaims and you chuckle, “This scene is simply a metaphor where Romeo is a pilgrim wanting to erase his sins and Juliet is a saint. So, he is basically trying to convince her to kiss him so that he can truly be free of sin,” your explanation echoes through the room, and you notice Oscar turning red when you mention the word ‘kiss’. It was clear as day that the poor boy really liked the girl he’s currently hand in hand with but you don’t want him to feel nervous and uncomfortable about the thought of kissing her. “Now Oscar, you can kiss her on the cheek and that’s fine. Shaniqua, say it with more emotion, okay? Everyone got it?” The response you received was a sputter of hums and nods. Before you could continue, Josh, who plays Lord Capulet and is sitting lazily on the handmade throne, speaks up much to your dismay, “Why is it so important that we put so much effort into this. It’s not like anyone is going to come.” The kids around him began agreeing with his statement, and it was honestly completely expected of him but it was the truth. No one attends the drama club’s annual play. As you're trying to calm everyone down, your phone buzzes on the table in front of you. It’s a text from Bruce, asking if you could come over tonight, phrasing it like he’s a schoolboy sneaking from his parents to meet with a girl late at night. Then, like an epiphany you have an idea although there’s an eighty percent chance it wouldn’t go through. Nevertheless, you turn to the rest of the students with a hint of a smile on your lips. “I might have just the idea to solve that.”

A brief span seemed like an eternity when sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Tonight was a different case; thoughts were completely clear and concise. In much need of sleep, you steal the chance to savour in this clarity and serenity for as long as you could. To feel his warmth, arm gently resting on your abdomen and the occasional whiff of his deodorant from his ebony shirt you’re dressed in. If this was what bliss feels like, you never want it to go away. Your eyes grow heavy, flickering into darkness due to exhaustion from a long day of rehearsals. At once, you’re struck with the reminder of the idea you had this afternoon. It is more of a favour, involving none other than Bruce. There’s a tinge of guilt whenever favours are involved because you never liked asking for help. You were furiously independent and responsible, relying on others was out of the question. Yet, Bruce has always seemed to find a way to weave himself in your mistakes and problems, constantly there to help out. You have to remind yourself this isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Special guest, Bruce Wayne, playboy and billionaire. Sounds awesome.

As your consciousness begins ebbing away, you feel Bruce shift from beside you, grasp tightening upon your waist. Before your dazed mind could even fully process that he was in the midst of a nightmare, his eyes are wide open, heart-pounding and it seizes him up instantly. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes once more, unable to shake the feeling of dread that rattles in him. Then, a sudden cold touch to his arm—he jumps and snaps his head to look over his shoulder.

It’s you, still laid in bed with a prominent frown upon your brows. Your hand squeezes his forearm and all he feels is instant relief. His heart still pounds, not in fear but with affection. “Are you okay?” you drawled as you watch his lingering hand, fingers weaved between the strands of hair. The silver ones glint under the low light, contrasting the deep brown ones. You notice how his hair had grown along with his five o’clock shadow becomes more evident by the days. His face away from you, finally nodding in response to your question. “Yeah, just... a bad dream. His voice is subdued as he shifts under the sheets, head leaning against the headboard. Despite your weakened state, you bring yourself to sit up, twisting your body to face him properly. "You wanna talk about it?” you say, patting his shoulder lightly in a comforting manner. You watch him rub his eyes, exhale tightly and shake his head. “No. Anything but that.”

His response comes out almost harsh but Bruce doesn’t mean for it to be perceived in that way. His dream was the usual, the normal ones he’s used to by now but in times of stress overwork, they have started to become more intense and violent. This time it involved you, for the first time, and he watched you vividly get shot in the forehead—trails of his memory as Batman when he encountered you at the burger restaurant with the muzzle of a gun inches away from you. It haunts him to think that if the circumstances were different if you hadn’t texted him those dreaded four words, you might be dead.

He certainly is not telling you about the dream. Never in a million years.

Bruce turns to you and you’re still staring at him, worry carved deep in your furrowed brows. Change of topic was merely necessary at this point. “So, how has school been? The kids still mean to you?” Classic Bruce, always sweeping his problems under the antique Persian rug. You don’t blame him because you wouldn’t know better.

It was your turn to sigh at the mention of school but since tonight’s pillow talk is heading towards your job as an English teacher at GHS, you might as well use the opportunity to pitch in your plan. “Still mean, but the drama club kids are really great,” You thumb the edge of the blanket, unable to hide your growing smile. “Speaking of which, the annual play is next Friday and they have been rehearsing all week but,” you paused as you watched his right brow gradually lift. “No one comes for it. Like, no one and I hate to see all their efforts just thrown out the window like that—”

“So, you want me to go for it.”

You blinked, wondering if your explanations were too obvious of its underlying intent or Bruce could just read you like an open book. You won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

“If it’s no biggie. You don’t have to because I know you’re very busy but I don’t want the special guest to end up being the Big Belly Burger mascot.” Your smile widens and Bruce chuckles. Hell, it’s probably past midnight and you’re still able to find ways to be terribly funny. Literally terrible. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “I’ll clear my schedule.” It didn’t need much anticipation or thought because despite everything going on in his life, he knows he’ll do just about anything for you. You’re practically beaming at him and he finally sees it’s all worth it in the end. “Thank you, Bruce.” Your voice is sweet, and it makes his heart swell ever so slightly.

He sometimes wishes the two of you weren’t trapped in this loophole of unsaid confessions and hidden strong emotions for the other.

It almost comes naturally when he leans to you and presses a swift kiss to your forehead. Instead, it’s contradicting everything the two of you consider normal. He isn’t thinking straight and now your smile has disappeared, mouth agape and eyes very wide. Your brain stops.

Uh, what the hell just happened?

It hits him like a punch to the gut and the growing awkward silence is deafening. Yet, he doesn’t apologise because if he does, it doesn’t mean anything when in reality, it means so much more than just an accidental gesture. You don’t mention anything because you don’t objectify his actions. Kissing Bruce was fine when there are no strings attached but a peck to the forehead is way too affectionate for the man.

Before the both of you begin to overthink the events of a few moments ago, Bruce’s rational conscience kicks in and he clears his throat. “Get some sleep. You had a long day today.” He pats you on the shoulder awkwardly and you hum, shifting your head to lay back on the pillow. “Yesterday.” you correct him as it’s well past midnight. He chuckles, now laying flat on his back as he stares at the ceiling. Silently, the two of you agree to forget whatever happened a minute ago and to just...sleep it off.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #justice league #pining bagels repeat

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lesyah · 3 years

Text

moshang childhood friends to lovers au pt. 5

Hello! here is a fic that was posted to my twitter. it has songs to go along with it from my twitter. If you’d like to look at the songs for each part, or just check out my twitter (where I have threadfics and other twitter fics not posted here), feel free to do so!

part 5 [age 22]

The absence showed up in implicit ways. It would sneak up on him. He had somewhat fallen out of the habit of it all, simply from the fact that it was often too painful to think of. What was out of sight was better out of mind. But there were still times, when the habit of seniority was stronger, when there was a time in which his mind didn’t have time to remember his new normal, and his heart would lurch, his body would turn, his hand would reach for his phone, his mouth would open. The moment he remembered was the worst.

Now was one of those moments. Shang Qinghua had labored over this. He had read the same book over and over, he had annotated and bookmarked and researched for so long, just to write one measly paper. But he was proud of it and for once, he didn’t feel terrible about an assignment. So when he got his grade back, got wonderful marks, got wonderful comments, and was finally free of school for winter break, he wanted to weep with joy.

In his joy, his gut reaction was to tell someone. Sometimes it’d take a moment for him to remember who he wanted to tell. He pulled out his phone, opened up his message thread with Shen Yuan, and then exited the app. Shen Yuan was always rude when he proofread his papers. He didn’t really want to share this victory with him. His brain, for just a moment, wracked for who it was he wanted to tell.

He closed his laptop on the screen that told him his score. He put his phone back into his pocket. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling; wished there were stars. He went to his bed and laid on his side. He stared at his pillow and wished there was a TV playing loudly in the other room, and that the other person in his bed would let him hog the blankets.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t spoken to Mobei Jun in three and a half years. In fact, they probably talked on a weekly or biweekly basis. They had FaceTime calls every once in a while and studied together over video. It was nice. But the part of Shang Qinghua that looked forward to it was much, much smaller than the part of him that dreaded it.

Sometimes, things just changed when you grew up, even things that seemed like they’d stay the same forever. Some of the things that changed were inconsequential, or even good. But other things weren’t, and they hurt like a knife in the chest. This was one of those things.

There was nothing specific that caused the drifting between them. It just became difficult to try and make Mobei Jun the most important person in his life when he wasn’t there. This realization hit him like a tidal wave when he mentioned something in passing that had happened with a professor, and how it had finally been worked out, and Mobei Jun had responded with, “Wait, what happened with your professor?”

Shang Qinghua had stared at him for a moment, gathered himself, and promptly told him what happened. But he did not miss the expression on Mobei Jun’s face that reflected the feeling in his own chest.

When important pieces of their lives began to fall through the cracks, it felt like they began to fall down them, too.

After a while, it was easier, less painful for the both of them, to just keep one another at an arm’s length. It wasn’t so hard anymore that they knew nothing of each other’s lives when there was no expectation to share their lives with one another. It was a farce that this was less painful. It wasn’t. Just subtler. It was like a parasite, slowly eating away inside of Shang Qinghua in order to eventually devour him whole.

Shen Yuan did not understand this. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand that Shang Qinghua missed Mobei Jun, but he didn’t understand why it was so all-encompassing. Sometimes, it seemed like he was getting it, and other days Shang Qinghua made him want to rage. This was one of those days.

“You always get like this after you speak to him.”

Shang Qinghua sighed and threw his blanket over his head. “It’s hard, ok? He’s still my best friend, but he feels so far away. Like he’s on another planet.”

“I don’t get why you guys can’t just navigate this differently. Just talk everyday or something. You did that back in high school, even when one of you was on vacation.”

“It’s harder when we can’t actually hang out. And even if we did talk everyday, there would inevitably be things that we miss. It just sucks. It’s just how it happened. It wasn’t really on purpose.”

“You two make no sense. Is it really that big of a deal that you don’t know every little thing that goes on in each other’s lives?” Those were brave words, coming from someone who was dating Luo Binghe.

Shang Qinghua lifted the blanket to glare at him. “Maybe not, but for us it is! Obviously! Otherwise we wouldn’t be having this discussion! It’s just hard, ok? It’s not like I’m feeling this way for fun!”

Shen Yuan softened a little, sighing. “Yeah, yeah…Fine.”

Shang Qinghua flopped back. “It’s just…sometimes it feels like we're two halves of the same whole, you know? I never learned how to live without him. He was—Well. He was the only thing that ever made me feel better about anything, so now that he’s not around and we’re living different lives, I just don’t know what to do with it all.”

Shen Yuan didn’t meet his gaze, but he did stare down at the desktop. He leaned back in the chair and it squeaked under the weight. “Okay, yeah, I get it.”

Shang Qinghua sighed and rolled over onto his stomach and stuffed his head under the pillow. “It makes it worse because it was the right decision. I needed to go here.”

“Yeah,” Shen Yuan muttered. “I know.”

“I don’t feel like this all the time,” he defended, despite no one arguing. “I often feel very happy here.”

“You do,” Shen Yuan affirmed. “You do seem happy.”

“Yeah,” he said, like he was trying to convince somebody. Though he often was happy, now he felt like crying.

#moshang #svsss #myfic #mypost #Shang qinghua #mobei jun #moshang fic

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wordsinwinters · 3 years

Text

Then Again, Part 26 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 50,293

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25,

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else.

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs.

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

A/N: This isn’t my favorite chapter, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for over a year and I figured if I don’t post it now, I’ll never move on to the next. Additionally, as always, I live for feedback. 😉

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 26:

(Words: 2,825)

The bus ride will probably get boring soon, or at least as long as the girls stay asleep, but even as quiet as it is, it’s almost a perfect morning. Being early (around 6:00, I think?), there’s barely any light except street lamps and car lights, but some of the clouds on the right have caught a pretty bluish purple tinge. It reminds me of that Rainbow Fish book Aunt May used to read to me as a kid. To make it better, the morning air is chilly enough that the driver turned the heaters on low so it’s wrapped-in-a-blanket-while-it-snows warm in here. Although that also might be why, apart from general dirt and old gum, the strongest smell on the bus is salty grease— since the nearest heater is under the seat Flash spilled french fries and chicken nuggets in yesterday. It could be worse, though. I mean, it’s not necessarily a bad smell and the traffic isn’t horrible. It’s not the best, but it could definitely be louder and a lot slower. The field of flowing red tail lights ahead of us is oddly comforting, like a snail-slow pasture of mechanical color.

All in all, it’s a pretty cozy start for a dreaded five hour bus ride. It’s giving me quiet time to think. So that’s where I’m at. Or should be. I got some stuff organized in my head last night even if I keep getting distracted now. Well, it was more like a couple hours ago, since I wasn’t able to get to sleep for so long after we said goodnight. But anyway, I’m trying to focus. It’s just hard, even with both of them sleeping.

From my and Ned’s spot behind them, watching the girls’ heads gently shake and bump against each other as the bus shudders through potholes is kind of calming. They seem so peaceful from this angle, like two people who’ve never pranked me and Ned to the point we were nearly suspended, or kept us awake and annoyed by asking paradoxical hypothetical questions because they know how Ned and I will argue for days if we don’t agree on an answer, or anything else like that. It’s like finding two mischievous cats sleeping, curled up on a chair. It’s easier to appreciate them when they aren’t causing chaos. But it’s not that hard to appreciate them when they are anyway.

Though Ned and I won’t admit it when they’re fully awake, seeing their heads smack into the seat in front of them each time the bus lurched to a halt at stoplights (during the first ten minutes after they’d fallen asleep) was funnier than it should’ve been. Even knowing then that we wouldn’t mention it later didn’t stop us from exchanging silent laughs when they leaned back up, muttering unintelligible complaints before settling their heads back onto one another. For the last couple stoplights before the highway, at least, we decided to be better friends. We both stood up with one leg on the floor and one knee on our own seat so we could easily hold their foreheads back each time it happened. Again, I wouldn’t admit this out loud, even to Ned, but it’s a little bit funny that Ned was a split second slower than me, so while I kept catching MJ’s head before the stop, he half-smacked Y/N’s forehead, like a really-close-to-the-floor basketball dribble, and made a wincing face each time. A lot of times. But it did stop her from colliding with the seat, and she didn’t wake up or complain.

As nice as it is with them and almost everyone else sleeping through the dark, quiet first hour of the bus trek back to New York, I am excited for her and MJ to wake up. Whenever that is. I’ve missed them.

But anyway, I really need to focus. God. I’m not doing a great job of that this morning. Apparently. So I’m focusing now. It’s like Ned said. I need to be honest with myself.

Okay.

Alright.

No distractions.

I’m going to set myself straight now, before we get back, so I can make a game plan and be more decisive and make less mistakes. Fewer? Yeah, fewer mistakes. She’s told me that half a dozen times this since she read that grammar book last summer. But that’s not important.

If I’m being honest... I think I’ve avoided the real possibility that things could work out between us because it felt too risky. And I make some dumb, impulsive choices. So that’s saying a lot. If she said no, what’s the worst that could happen? May and Ned have been asking me that for months, and it’s been so frustrating. The answer should be obvious. The worst thing wouldn’t be the rejection, it’d be if it made her uncomfortable and she broke off our friendship. Or, even if she stuck around, if our friendship changed and I had to watch her get more and more distant, knowing it was my fault and nothing would ever go back to normal.

Those were the worst — and, I thought, most probable — possibilities. For months I’ve been certain that if anything changed, everything would, and it’d all go to shit. So I kept dodging it. And dodging her before the trip. But, then, things did change this weekend. Things are changing. We fought, and it was super shitty and awful and a total nightmare fiasco, but we made up. And she seemed almost as relieved as me when we did. Now we even have this pact about spending more time together. I know it’s officially only in the name of friendship, but something’s… different. I feel it, and I think she does too. And it doesn’t seem bad. That’s the craziest part. I mean, she even kissed me last night. On the cheek, but still. “Keep it.” Maybe May’s not ridiculous: she really might feel the same way.

I’ve been texting her this morning, actually. Aunt May. I had to admit that I’m happy she forced me to do the forehead kiss thing last night. As annoyed as I was that she and Ned ganged up on me like that, I can’t dispute the results. She kissed me! Kind of. (To be fair, she did hit my mouth a little bit even if it was an accident.) At first it made me wonder if she heard any of Ned’s shout-comments before I could turn the t.v. up to cover what he was saying. But I doubt it. Even if she felt the same way, I know her too well to think she wouldn’t freak out more and enough that it’d be noticable. Yeah, no, I’d definitely have been able to tell if she’d heard him saying things like, “Nobody’s saying you have to tell her that you googled the probability of high school sweethearts getting married that time she saved your ass on that Bronte essay, but yeah, Aunt May’s right! Just ask her to come over and either talk to her or do the hair/forehead thing!” Anyway, May’s on board with her coming over a lot this week and next week and giving us some space. So are Ned and MJ. Ned said they agreed on giving us two weeks (starting tomorrow) without them hanging out after school. And who knows, if the dance goes really well, maybe it’ll be normal for us to hang out, just us, without the whole group. Because… well, I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself.

I’ll admit, they’re the best friends I could ever have. All three of them.

And it’s nice to have them all here now, Ned to my left and the girls in front of us. It’s even nicer to be outside of class or the city or crazy study sessions and have had a short breather from all that (despite the shitshow before we smoothed things over and could enjoy it). To be somewhere chill together. Yesterday and today probably feel even better because the last few days, or even weeks… no— months, if I’m being honest— have had me in a kind of less than happy place. But that’s over now. We’re all here and things are finally good. I just wish the girls would wake up, especially since Ned’s back on his phone. Again.

Yesterday, everybody hung out for most of the afternoon, but being in the whole decathlon group isn’t the same as just being the four of us. Or two.

Speaking of two— Ned being away during this next week or two is going to make everything so… unfiltered. New. Without his interference and being able to talk to him as often as normal, it’ll mostly just be her and me. Nobody to distract attention or blame stuff on or help me out when I’m doing something dumb (which is often). Like, for example, last night when I maybe let my excitement get the better of me and I might’ve jumped on the bed and thrown a pillow that accidentally broke the lamp on the nightstand. While I don’t really think writing that “Bill Mr. Harrington” note with the school’s address was Ned’s best idea, it helped me not care too much, enough that I didn’t do something dumber like actually tell Mr. Harrington. It might come back to bite us, though. Still, he was genuinely helpful this morning when Flash showed up too.

While we were hanging out in the girls’ room waiting for them to finish packing, there was a knock on the door. I figured it was Mr. Harrington about to yell at me and Ned for the broken lamp, so I motioned to Ned to shut up and move closer to the head of the bed we were already sitting on where, courtesy of the wall between the bedroom and bathroom, he wouldn’t be able to see us as long as he stayed by the doorway. MJ gave us an odd glance before she got up to answer it. Her annoyed, “What are you doing here?” didn’t immediately disqualify Mr. Harrington, but the sound of Flash’s voice saying, “I, uh, brought you guys some muffins,” made me tense at the first syllable.

“The free muffins they give us for breakfast?”

MJ’s dripping sarcasm nearly made me laugh even though I couldn’t see her, but Y/N turning from her suitcase and walking over to join them killed it still in my throat.

“Nope,” he said. “They’re fancy muffins from a bakery a few miles away.”

I wanted to roll my eyes out of my skull.

She may not like him, but that doesn’t mean I was wrong about him being into her. What a dumb way to impress someone. “Fancy muffins.”

“Expensive?” MJ asked. Even without seeing her face, I could tell she was giving him the squint death stare. It’s scary to have to respond to that face if you don’t know what the right answer is.

“Yes, especially with the delivery fee,” he said, sounding prepared for the question, “but they’re from a small local place, not a chain, which I figured you guys would appreciate. Actually, I think you’d like the woman who owns it, she was super grouchy and hard to convince.”

“Convince?”

“They don’t normally deliver at 5 in the morning.”

“Oh, so you thought you could just—”

“What kind did you get?”

That’s one of the things I like about Y/N. She knows how to manage tempers and when to jump in; she has Flash and MJ down to a science. In that moment, though, I wanted MJ to fire her most confrontational questions at him with no mercy.

“Well, they’re all apology muffins—” I heard MJ scoff. Exactly. She gets it. “But I got blueberry, chocolate, obviously, coffee, cranberry orange, maple, I think that one has chicken in it or something, and banana nut.”

Ned and I turned towards each other with silent smirks at the last one. It’s a dumb joke, but under normal circumstances we’d never resist—

“Cool. Since you’ve brought so many, you can come in.”

Sometimes MJ drives me up the wall. This was one of those times.

I mentally took back my agreement with her scoff.

The three of them came into the room, and for a couple seconds, Flash didn’t see us. The girls were closer to the window than they were to the wall and the bed Ned and I were sitting on, and he didn’t look behind him. Until MJ pointed us out directly.

“You can give them some too,” she said, her expression bordering on smug. “Apology muffins, right?”

Flash froze for a second. I straightened my back. Neither Ned or I said anything.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.”

Surprisingly, he shook his shoulders like a bug just buzzed by his head and walked over, opening a giant rectangle of a box up to us.

“Take however many you guys want.”

I stared at him, not moving. Nobody flinched. Then I realized he was tapping the side of the box with his thumb. Not in an asshole come on, hurry up way, but in an anxious way. Just as I started to reach toward the box, Y/N asked:

“Why’d you get so many of the coffee ones?”

Flash looked away at just the right second.

Did I technically cave first by reaching into the box? Yes. But did anyone see? No.

Although, I guess he technically caved by offering us the muffins in the first place. Ha. All the same, I took a blueberry one.

“They’re my dad’s favorite. I wanted to surprise him, you know? But I can’t even get a hold of.... Um, are your guys’ parents going to pick you up when we get there, or are you actually staying for school?”

“Staying.”

“All of you?”

He looked around to ask all of us, even me and Ned. We all nodded. When he looked at me, though, his eyes twitched. It’s a face I’ve gotten a lot before. He realized he said parents.

“You said these are orange cranberry?” Ned asked, pointing.

Flash nodded.

“They’re solid, though the banana nut ones are probably the best.”

As I said, under normal circumstances, like if one of the girls had said it, I would’ve laughed right then, but I’m not used to laughing around Flash. Ned, who usually follows that same rule, shook his head and grinned, if a little bit... nervously?

“Hell no!” he said, pretending to be mildly outraged. “I’m not eating banana-bust-a-nut muffins.”

A second surprise: Flash tilted his head and paused, clearly as stunned to be told a joke by Ned as the rest of us were to witness it— and laughed. So did everyone else. It was only for a few seconds, like literally three quick seconds, but for the first time for as long as I can remember, all of us were laughing with Flash. It stopped almost as soon as it started.

Tension crept back in soon so he left pretty quickly after that with an awkward, “See you guys in a few.” Thank god.

The girls finished tidying their room and going over the homework that’s due today (which we did last week since we knew we’d never get it done on the trip), before forcing me and Ned into the hallway so Mr. Harrington wouldn’t need to check our room for us and potentially find the broken lamp.

And then, pretty soon, we ended up on the warm bus, loaded in with everyone else. It seemed like everybody but Ned and I were too quiet and sleepy and squinty to be able to talk much before dozing off or staring blankly out the window or scrolling social media on their phones, the latter two options leading to the first in most cases. At this point, I think Ned, Flash, and I are the only ones still awake.

I’m going to work at tolerating him. As long as he doesn’t cross any lines with anybody from now on, I won’t bait him either. (Admittedly, I’ve been guilty of that, especially recently.) I mean, his comment about his dad was hard to miss. And even when he said it, it wasn’t a shock. Everyone in our grade at some point has had to listen to Flash’s rambling excuses for his parents ignoring or forgetting to show up for school events. Maybe being a dick is just hereditary for him. Or a family tradition.

I don’t remember how I got so off track. Where was I before? Oh yeah. Risk. Possibilities. The almost-worst case scenario that turned out not so bad. It’s been a messy weekend with plenty of re-evaluating, but the point is simple: I think I’ve got to give a few new things a try, and I’m excited to have a chance over the next couple weeks.

Next update: God only knows.

Tag List: If you’d like to be tagged, send me a(n) ask/message or reply* to this post!

*Notice: If you reply, I may not respond back; if you need/want confirmation, send me an ask/message instead :) Also, there are a few blogs whose tags aren’t working and I haven’t been able to contact them. For the time being, I removed most of the dead tags. If you weren’t tagged and should have been, or if you’ve changed your url, send me a quick message and I’ll put you on my message list!

Tagged: (If I’m missing anyone, send me a message!) @spideymood @solarspidey @tiffanypooh @carrotsunshine @breebree1198 @idontlooklikereginageorge @stumb1ing @bit-bot0711 @justthatshortlittlenerd @avzuzu @melonmochi @happysynonym @the-redthread @i-love-superhero @ohgloryyy-blog @nicunty @pxrrished @shugr12110629 @realitykilledtheteen@thehanneloner @lionfart @tryn25 @slythergirlimagines@twentyjuanpancakes @littlekay15 @hi-mishamigos @eversweet-imagines @thisisthetragicstoryofme @augurydemon@daisy-john @siriuspadfoot14 @debiwolf-t @casual-vaporwave@swimmeranxiety @dangerousluv1 @ghosthiam @homecomjng @deep-thoughts-in-the-shower @bughead-isendgame @qu3en-of-letters @brightcolorsoffendme @cutehollands @enoumen-t @dottirose @justthatshortlittlenerd @thatgirlthatlikesmarvel@moonofmy-life @royal1958 @ashleyhearto @pinkleopardss @cutie1365 @spideyschmood @dragoste-lunes @peterparkley @gold-masks @stonesandskeletonbones @myhealingstar @a-typical-antisocial-fangirl @love-and-protect-bucky-barnes@fangirldreamsandstuff @fandom-stuff @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @jellzu @aussie-mantle@stevieboyharrington @septicquill @thingfromlove @dude-whatawave @me-a-hopeless-romantic @condy-wants-a-cookie @susurrantsoul @kawaii-girl-101 @lxstneverfound @ukulele-tea-and-ocean @tepidtrash @emilymarie0422 @styles-bucks@shortstack-ofpancakes @lilbeatlebear @imyourdadssideblog @the-introverted-loner-art @marvelcuties @lesdragly @atomic-chickenwings @reanne @schwankyblock @nedthegay @kateelyse96@outsider-underwater @omg-lexiloveyou @le-yona @desteweirdo@thingfromlove @madasameg @bookish-and-shy @lowkeyfriggason @arya-and-sansa @hot-pocket01 @icantthinkofanyusername0 @ajkenwo

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #marvel imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman x you #peter parker #tom holland

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hermits-that-craft · 3 years

Text

Powers Au - Nature

TW - fighting, blood, past abuse, betrayal

Dream hides under the blankets, his eyes screwed shut. The sound of his father screaming in pain echoes through his head. He might only be nine, but he knows that his father is a bad man. He knows that the man hurts people, thinks that he’s a god. He knows that his father uses him to force people to stay in his territory. Dream knows, prime, Dream knows that this was a long time coming.

But the scream echoes in his head, and in his heart the boy knows his father is dead. He mourns the man, prime only knows that he mourns, but he doesn’t leave the safety of the blankets. Heroes could be here - Dream helped the monster who fashioned himself Dream’s ‘father’ - and they’ll kill him. His father hurt people, but he never lied. Lying is worse than killing, in his father’s eyes.

“Hey,” A soft voice says, suddenly in the room with Dream. “My name’s Puffy, but my heroes name is Captain. Are you injured?”

Dream shakes his head, trembling under the blankets. She’s going to kill him, she’s going to cut him up and eat him, she’s going to-

He sticks his head out from under the blankets, looking at her. She has dark, chocolate brown eyes and fuzzy brown hair that looks like - is it wool? It looks so soft, and there’s a strip of it thats rainbow. She isn’t wearing a mask, he can see it discarded on the floor besides his bed, with a hairtie next to it, and her hood is down. She is covered in blood, and red footprints trail out of the room towards her.

“Hey buddy,” she says. “What’s your name?”

“Dream.” He mumbles, fear wracking his small frame again. The heroine - Puffy - smiles at him brightly.

“That’s a lovely name.” She says, and she reaches her hand out to him. “Why don’t you come with me, we’ll take you to a hospital to make sure you don’t have any injuries.”

Dream frowns, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders. He can feel the blood on his back drying, feel the way his foot throbs in pain every time a muscle twitches. He knows its broken. He knows his injured. But this woman could hurt him, could lie to him, and-

“You can keep your blanket, if you want.” She offers, the kindness never wavering.

“My foot hurts.” He mumbles pathetically, tears springing in his eyes.

“Then I guess i have to carry you.” She spreads her arms, and Dream pathetically throws himself into her embrace.

Puffy picks him up, holding him as though he’s worth something, as though he’s not made everything that she is supposed to defeat. As though his father hadn’t forced him to kill so many people. As though he’s made of gold, and his blood flows with rubies and gemstones.

Dream falls asleep in her careful hold, letting the soft wool of her hair become a pillow.

---

“When will my nephew return from the war.” Schlatt complains as Puffy stacks her dishwasher, rolling her eyes. “It’s been 48 years!”

“School isn’t a war, Schlatt.” Puffy says simply, carefully placing the cutlery into the little bucket made for them. “And if my memory serves me right, you’re still in university.”

“Poli-sci is different to fifth grade, Puffy. Ten year olds are evil.”

“Mum! I’m home!” Dream calls, and Puffy can hear a crash as he throws his bag into the wall.

“Speak of the devil.” Schlatt mumbles under his breath, a fond smile on his face.

“How was school?” Puffy yells back at him.

“I made a new friend! His name is George!” Dream says, walking into the kitchen. “Uncle Schlatt!”

“Come give your favourite uncle a hug, kid.” Schlatt smirks.

“Oh, is Uncle Sam over?” Dream says, and Schlatt gasps in mock horror.

“Oh you’ve wounded me!” Schlatt says, dramatically falling to the ground. “The horror! The pain! How could you?”

“And you say that Wilbur hasn’t rubbed off on you.” Puffy laughs, putting the last plates into the dish washer.

“Hey, he hasn’t.” Schlatt says from where he lies, Dream standing triumphantly over his ‘dead body’. “Just cause that theatre nerd is my friend, doesn’t mean that he’s rubbed off on me.”

“Sure thing.” Puffy laughs, turning the dish washer on. “C’mon now, lets see what homework you have so that you and Uncle Schlatt can hang out for longer.”

---

“Dream.” The teen pauses, halfway out of the window. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Dream’s voice cracks, and he blushes slightly.

“So, if I came into your room, you wouldn’t be halfway out of your window, in vigilante gear?” Puffy’s voice is light, but he can tell that she’s worried.

“Nope!” Dream smiles brightly. His vigilante gear is kept at George’s house since, well, the other teens parent’s don’t care about what George, Sapnap and Dream do as long as they aren’t too injured.

Puffy sticks her head in, shaking her head when she see’s Dream, still halfway out of the window. She gestures for him to go to bed, sighing.

“You know, when I let your uncle buy us this house I thought that you’d like the yard, not the easy to escape windows.” She smiles, though he can see the nervousness in her eyes.

“You alright, Mum?”

“There was these two kids, when I was out on patrol.” Puffy says, patting the bed besides her. “I’m worried for them.”

“Why?” Dream asks, slowly pulling himself from the window. “They get mugged or something?”

“They were following the syndicate.” Puffy leans back on the wall, and Dream lets her hug him. “They can’t be older than you, as well. I’m just worried.”

“You weren’t older than me when you adopted me.” Dream points out.

“I was seventeen. You’re fourteen.”

“Three years.”

“Still makes a difference.” Puffy ruffles his hair. “Now, who were you sneaking out to see. A girl?”

“Primse, Mum! No! I wasn’t.”

---

Puffy watches from another room as Dream and Foolish meet. Foolish flinches away from Dream, who sits down at a distance. Puffy makes herself busy as she looks around the kitchen. Eret may have been adopted by Callahan, but Foolish is her newest son, and she forgot to even warn Dream, the teen’s going to hate this.

“Did Mum pick you up from a villains base as well?” Dream asks after a moment, getting a startled laugh from Foolish.

“Yeah?” The other teen affirms after a moment. “Does she do that a lot?”

“Well, she did it with me. I’m starting to sense a pattern.” Dream jokes, and Puffy relaxes, pulling out some spaghetti. Easy dinner, for tonight, it sounds like.

A few quiet whispers are exchanged by the pair, and then raucous laughter erupts from the lounge room. Yeah, this is home.

---

Dream leans against a tree, pressing bandages into his side. Sapnap stands besides him, nervously looking around to see if any villains or heroes show up. No one does, not even George, who’s probably still sleeping.

“What did they do to Dad?” Sapnap mumbles weakly after a moment. “Why was he all-”

“Infected?” Dream offers after Sapnap trails off, his eyes a thousand yards away. “He looks like the egg got him.”

“But isn’t Pa enough? Why’d he have to take Dad as well?” Tears pour down Sapnaps face, and Dream winces. “I want my family back.”

“I know.” Dream says, sinking to the ground. “We’ll fix them. We’ll save them. The heroes-”

“The heroes are killing them! They kill anyone who gets possessed!” Sapnap protests. “They’ll kill them.”

“Then I guess we need to oppose the heroes.” Dream says, looking over at the small, dilapidated cottage in the forest. Dream, Sapnap and George had been using it to research how the egg works, and if you can save someone from it’s possession.

“Yeah.” Sapnap help’s Dream up, carrying the seventeen year old to the cottage. “I suppose we have to.”

“The ends will justify the means.” Dream promises. “We’ll be forgiven. Promise.”

---

“Dream?” Puffy can hear Foolish on the phone, trying to call his brother. “Please pick up. We’re not mad at you. Please just come home.”

Puffy can hear Foolish sigh as the phone hangs up, and Schlatt rubs her back supportively. Eret gives Foolish a hug, and Sam contacts the SMP, trying to see if there’s been any sightings of the three missing teens.

“You’ve reached Dream Taken, if you’re my Mum I’m sorry for being late home, I’ll be home soon, if you aren’t my Mum leave a message. Call you back soon!” The automated response hasn’t changed, but Puffy sobs quietly as she hears her sons voice.

“Please, Dream. Come home.” She begs, tears rolling down her face. “Or at least call me back.”

---

People scream in the streets below, Sapnap and Dream razing the city to the ground. The red vines that crept up the buildings wither and decay under the fire, and the pair of them laugh. They’re saving the city, one contained fire at a time.

Those people were probably possessed anyways. They would have died eventually, the so called “heroes” have no morals. Not like Dream and Sapnap and George. At least these three are trying to cure them.

“Stop!” Dread fill’s Dream and Sapnap’s chests as they hear Puffy yell after them. “You are under arrest for arson and-”

“We won’t be going with you.” Dream says, spinning around. He stands protectively in front of Sapnap. “Sorry, Mum, but we’re busy trying to save the cuty.”

“Dream.” He hears Puff gasp, her hands over her mouth. “You’re alive.”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He growls, taking out a sword.

“Miss Puffy, please. You could join us.” Sapnap offers, his hand on Dream’s arm, calming the other teen. “We’re trying to cure the egg!”

Dream and Puffy both wince, hearing the smile on Sapnap’s voice. That naive, hopeful, pathetic smile that screams ‘we’re doing the right thing’.

“Sap,” Puffy begins, nervously, “Burning the buildings and killing people won’t save anyone.”

“The ends justify the means.” Dream snap, before Sapnap can change his mind. “Are you with us, or are you going to kill us.”

It’s not a question.

“I can’t agree with this.” Puffy says. “But I could never hurt you.”

“You killed my father.” Dream snaps, glaring at the woman he once called mother. “You’ve already broken me beyond repair.”

---

Puffy sits in the hospital bed, staring out of the window. She wasn’t able to fight them, how could she? She raised Dream since he was nine, and she was ‘aunt Puffy’ to Sapnap since he was a baby. How could she hurt these kids she swore to protect, to keep safe?

Foolish sleeps on the chair besides her bed, Eret sleeping on the floor besides him. The pair refused to leave after visiting hours, and Puffy said that it was alright for them to spend the night. How could she send out her son, and the child she considers family?

She stares out the window, watching the sky turn from a dark indigo to a bright orange. Tears drip down her face as phantom fire races up her arms, and she remembers. She doesn’t know why she remembers this poem, this miserable sad poem that she hadn’t thought of since she dropped out of highschool to persue full time heroism.

The notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.

If that didn’t describe her family, she doesn’t know what does.

#powers au #captain puffy #dream #foolishgamers #jschlatt #sapnap #eret #awesamdude #my writing

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bluekat12345 · 2 years

Note

Please forgive me for bad writing but I had to share this possible start for my Griffin!Cody idea!

Cody had been upset since the incident.

He had watched how all of his hero attempts have failed, he had watched how his actions affected others, but for him the worst, the worst is that his family had to suffer because of him.

He thinks that is just luck that he hasn't hurt himself so badly, just like he hasn't horrible hurt everyone else because of his stupid decisions.

And after having such a nightmare last night.

"I-I am not hungry a-at the moment!" Cody finally answered, with fear in his voice that he tried to hide with the quick response, he didn't want to get everyone worried over other of his errors.

"It's okay, I can still take you to school, right? " his dad's words brought him to dread at the mere thought of being seen even if it was just his dad.

"N-No! I can go by myself!" He says. Fear in his words was all his dad could hear.

"Cody, I know you are upset"

"P-please go away!" Cody didn't mean to sound so harsh, it broke his heart to hear his dad suck in a breath as if he had been hit, the sound of him stepping back as he recoiled at his words.

Cody didn't want to hurt anyone and an apology was already going to be released, when-

"I and the team will be working late, but I will let you some snacks on the fridge. So when you feel better, we can have a movie night together, ok?"

It was silent, no answer nor response, just quietness followed by a weak "uhum" from Cody...

His dad left at the response.

But at the moment he tried to put his sorrows in the doll, it ripped as he got hold of it, Cody panicked as the same fate fell upon his bed and pillow.

He rushed by throwing all to the window of the back, keeping his hands far away from himself as if they were a horrible monster wanting to eat him.

At that sensation, he opened his eyes and saw.

The claws were gone!

What do you think!? Is just a quick idea so I may change it later

I think your writing is great! And I like it!

#Answer

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oliviaillustrations · 3 years

Text

Garden of Eden

my piece for the @grishaversebigbang ! this is based off of the lovely dark academia ninej au fic written by @kugisakigf and @emdrabbles titled Garden of Eden

you can find my gang members and their amazing pieces below! 💗

Materialki: @landryaugust (here and here) @oranges-and-stuff (here)

AO3 Link: here!

Summary:

Nina is doing just fine as a directionless art student—she goes to class four times a week, struggles to get oil paint out of her clothes on laundry day, makes sure to dodge her landlord when he asks about rent, and dreads the day she has to graduate. Maybe she feels as important to the grand scheme of things as a stray brushstroke, and she's no closer to any shred of a clue about what she's going to do with her life. But it's fine. She's fine.

Except when Nina’s painting class gets a live model, she spends more time staring at this very pretty, very intimidating newcomer more than she does at her own canvas. Inej is gorgeous and terrifying and has her life together and now Nina can’t remember the last time she was able to think about anything but her. Pressure starts to ramp up and the world she's tried so hard to hide herself from keeps pounding at every wall she's built to protect herself, and now she's left wondering if she'll ever amount to anything. Will history forget Nina Zenik? Will she ever do something worthwhile with what little she's been given? And does it even matter, when Inej Ghafa seems to draw her ever closer, an Icarus to her blazing sun?

First Chapter: Nina Zenik is crumpled in a mass of blankets, shivering and bone-tired, when she realizes that sometimes, living in the attic of a church is worth it. She can deal with the rotting wood that creaks and rolls under her feet, the sounds splintering out across the room as she walks. She can forgive the smell of must and cobwebs, the heavy fragrance of mold and must and incense lingering around every corner, even on the rare occasions when she has time to clean. She can almost ignore the deep ache of wintertime, the heat barely making its way to her with long, spiraling fingers, the cold permeating through every crack in the walls that let in the sharp December chill. She's made her peace with the occasional mouse that sprints underfoot, the moths spending weeks on the windowsill, the shitty water pressure and gas stove that only works once a week if she was lucky.

Because mornings like this seemed to make everything worth it.

The rising sun, shallow and shy in the pale morning light, would reach out and glance off of an ancient stained glass window, just at her bedside. The sky would sing, and the carefully laid image of The Virgin Mary would glow, sweet features framed in green and violet. Nina would wake to vibrant shadows dancing across her skin and colors pooling on her floor like spilled blood. Sometimes, she would just sit there, hours before classes would start. The world faded to a hazy gray, and all that was left was the sunrise and her. She'd just look at the sun, and she'd pause for a moment, and just breathe . It never quite felt like she could get a full breath of air anymore. She would just take a breath, and she'd stop thinking, and she'd just be . She wasn't Nina Zenik, right now. She was sunlight and morning air and that particular shade of crimson shot through with gold when the light shines in.

She blinks, and the sun has moved. She's washed in pitch again, deep blue drowning the lines and arches of her body into a loose silhouette. She's empty, again, just a fragile body in a silent room. The floor dips and bends beneath her feet as if to sing a hollow tune in some form of an answer. It does not feel like enough. It never does.

She wipes a smudge of dust off the windows, her finger stained red even in the fading light. Her heart beats in concert with the pulsing of her head, and she winces, hard. Lack of sleep is catching up to her, it seems. The last few nights—weeks, if she's being true—have been short and restless, a sick sort of fear settling in whenever her eyes begin to close. It burns like every word she's never said and it spoils like a promise in her stomach. Everything is too much, and it's all she can do to stand on two feet and will her fingers to curl around a pencil. And even that's a pretense.

She hasn't been able to paint in months. Everything she makes seems twisted and wrong , an abomination of oil paints and a mockery of everything she's worked to accomplish. (She buries the voice that says she hasn't truly accomplished anything deep in her chest and tries to forget it can still breathe). She's felt stuck, a broken record that keeps skipping the same line of a song she's heard a hundred times. She can feel everything falling away from her, but doesn't know how to hold on to it all. She's losing it all with nothing she can do to stop it.

Nina doesn't have time for this- this crisis , something hisses in her ear, teeth grazing against her neck. But the problem is, she never has time for any of this. It all keeps piling up and then she’s buried under the weight of it and then she's having a panic attack in a public restroom and turning in late assignments and making excuses and she can’t do that . She can't do that again. So she compartmentalizes, picks out tiny little problems, and thinks about them for a short while, washes it down with wine, and calls it a night. Everything she doesn't deal with disappears in the morning. And she likes it that way.

But morning has come, and she still feels like a goddamn inside-out sock and she doesn't know what to do about it. Nina has been floundering for years, though, so this isn't any different than anything else.

Her phone flickers and the curling numbers read 7:49. Shit. She has a nine a.m. class and she's still in bed. Normally, she'd get to rot into her pillows for another hour at least, but she needed it for her major, and by the time she'd finally finished agonizing over which courses to take, it had been the only time slot open. So, here she is, aching limbs and sunburnt eyes, stepping onto the cold embrace of hardwood floors. She shivers, and the weak threads of sunlight that weave through the windows don't make the room any warmer.

The shower isn't warm, either. She bears the wet chill anyway. The water is soothing and it washes away the dregs of sleeplessness from her eyes. She stands under the spray, lets it drip down her back, and feels something like comfort as the soap slips down around her ankles and the room begins to smell like lavender. She waits for the water to finally run low, and steps out, puddles tracing her footsteps as she makes her way to her dresser.

Her hair lies damp on her shoulders, thick strands tangled and dark against her skin. It started curling, lately, and she's not sure why, but she doesn't quite mind. Sometimes, she closes her eyes, and imagines vines and leaves woven through the loose curls. A vision of Dionysus with dirt-stained fingers and violet stains under her eyes. A fairy twined with sumac and oak, wings that glow gold in the sunlight. She's always wanted to be special. She's always wished to be more than she is. But now, her own haggard reflection is what stares back at her. She's not sure if she likes what she sees.

She's not sure that it matters.

Nina gets dressed, rifling through her closet in search of something warm. It’s not like she’s obsessed with how she looks, but she does try and pick something nice. Today, she settles on a pink sweater patterned with strawberries, and earrings to match. (She’s nothing if not consistent.) It’s soft and thick, and it smells like summertime. It’s perfect for this, the kind of day that soaks through your skin and wears away at your bones. She slips into thick boots and a pair of jeans, and she's gone.

She takes the spiral staircase outside of her apartment one creaking step at a time, counting as she goes. One, two, three, four, avoid the loose nail on five, six, seven, eight. She should get that fixed, she thinks. But that would require seeing the landlord. And no one wants to see the landlord. The thought whispers away as fast as it came.

The staircase spits her out in the church vestibule. It’s all dark wood and low ceilings, pale morning light filtering through the narrow windows. Soft music floats through the heavy doors separating Nina from the nave of the church, and if she listens closely, faint chanting is woven between the notes. The song sounds familiar. She’s unsure if it’s a psalm drilled into her from middle school bible camp or because the organ drums the same tune beneath her floor every day.

Nina stands a moment longer, eyes momentarily fluttering closed as she listens, grasped by an unnamable sensation equal parts reassuring and paralyzing. And then she’s out the door, down the marble steps, and on the street.

The cold air stings her cheeks and her shoulders wince against the wind. She really should've grabbed a coat before she left, but it's fine. She still hasn't eaten, and she has a class in half an hour. If she turns back now she'll be late. So, Nina grits her teeth, ignoring how hard they're rattling against each other, and tugs the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her shaking hands. The coffee shop’s only a five-minute walk, and it'll be warm inside, and that's the only thing that keeps her moving forward. Her feet beat on the concrete with a steady rhythm, and she focuses on that instead of the aching cold.

The awning of the Dregs greets her, bold block letters on top of old red brick. Scuttling through the door, she’s welcomed by a gust of warm air. The barista looks up at the gentle tingle of the bell and flashes her a quick smile before resuming their work. They don’t look familiar. Must be a new hire. It feels like every time she gets comfortable around here, something changes. The world rolls and ripples under her feet, and she doesn’t remember the last time she’s caught her balance.

Nina takes a deep breath and rubs her hands together, which are now bright pink, then places them on the tips of her ears, which are also bright pink. The morning is quiet, with only a scattering of patrons to be found in the mixed-matched chairs. Some of the dark red wallpaper is beginning to peel off the plaster behind the counter. The Dregs she knows and loves.

“Good morning.” Behind the counter stands the barista, hands fidgeting with a dishtowel.

Nina blinks. “Mornin’,” she croaks, voice weak. She takes a look at the drink menu, even though she’s been here every morning since freshman orientation, because she needs to look busy and not as if she’s more burnt out than a pile of ash. Thankfully, the barista notices her quiet plea and doesn’t try to strike up any more conversation.

A few beats of silence pass, only interrupted by the occasional clink of coffee mugs. Despite already knowing what she’s going to order--the same damn caramel macchiato with far too much sugar than she should start her day with because why would she ever change the habits that hurt her the most--Nina stares at the menu overhead. Her eyes slowly unfocus, not actually reading the menu so much as wondering if she should even try to, so she doesn’t realize how much time has passed until the barista clears their throat with a little more vigor than necessary.

“So…” they start, rocking on the balls of their feet and making a point to not look directly at Nina. “Can I get you started or…?”

She snaps her head back down. “Oh, shit - sorry, yeah.” She allows herself one more moment to reconsider, then orders the caramel macchiato, but not before fumbling with her change. A cascade of pennies and nickels and dimes all crash to the floor and all noise in the cafe ceases at once. Nina doesn’t need to turn around to know how many pairs of eyes rest on her.

“I’ll, uh - get that for you right away.” The barista couldn’t have shuffled away any faster, disappearing into the back.

Nina swears once, loud, then stoops down and collects her change. Fucking figures. This morning has felt awfully representative of life in recent years - bitter, shitty, reliant on loose change. Yet her pride, or perhaps self pity, leaves her stagnant, unable to change. She refuses to get her hopes up about the coffee. With her luck it’ll be bitter and shitty, too.

The barista comes out soon after, coffee in one hand and muffin in the other. They set both on the counter and offer Nina a meek look. “Muffin’s on the house.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she says, scooping both into her hands. And she means it.

“Of course,” they say. Then they lean over the counter and point across the cafe. “And, uh - the drinks in the case over there, the orange ones. Yeah, those. They’re good for hangovers.”

Nina looks from the barista, to the case, then back to the barista. So that’s what this is. She scrunches her face into a weak smile, though it probably looks more like a grimace, and takes her drink without another word. Of course they think she’s hungover, because who would have such a shitty morning if they were sober? That thought is chased with a wave of guilt, heavy. They were being nice. Why can’t she just say thank you and move on? She pushes the door open and the bone chilling day greets her with a sting of cold that bites at her cheeks, her nose, ready to greet her next misfortune.

#gvbb21 #gvbbcreation21 #gvbbfic21 #grishaverse big bang #six of crows #nina zenik #the dregs #crooked kingdom #inej gafha

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